You and I Remember Budapest Very Differently
by Elfinium
Summary: Hawkeye and Black Widow backstory. From her initial recruitment into S.H.I.E.L.D to the mission in Budapest the story of how two assassins evolved from potential rivals to two halves of the same whole. Updated daily.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Don't you just love it when two characters hint at a great love affair and then don't tell you any more? (Thank you Joss Whedon - you're an evil evil man) So, as I have absolutely no patience and couldn't wait for the release of Avengers 2, my muse decided to poke me with a very sharp stick until I redressed the balance. **

**I own nothing, I just like to play with the characters a bit.**

**Enjoy. x**

* * *

Hawkeye looked at her blankly as the Black Widow trailed a finger nail across the scar running down his bicep. Even he wasn't sure any more which mission had caused which injuries, but right now his full attention was on the beautiful half dressed woman in front on him. Her other hand was placed to draw him to her mouth, a finger slipped slightly between ruby red lips, while doe eyes tried to convey innocence.

Clint Barton swallowed slowly.

_Ever since the first moment he'd laid eyes on Natasha Romanoff she had been something of an enigma. She was a stunningly beautiful chameleon of a woman who could make grown men crawl over broken glass for her. It was not a metaphor; he had actually seen it happen. During his surveillance for S.H.I.E.L.D. the Hawk had found himself a nest and familiarised himself with her methods. Know thy prey, and that was what she was. The Black Widow had unknowingly become hunted the moment S.H.I.E.L.D and Director Nick Fury wanted this particular female assassin dead._

_It wasn't anything to do with her beauty that stopped him taking the kill shot that day. There was a coldness about it. When she wasn't playing the concubine, she seemed almost empty, like a china doll, devoid of all emotion. Clint Barton had watched her manipulate and play with her marks like a cat with mice. Each encounter ended the same way. The method may be varied, a garrotte, a knife, a bullet, but every gullible man ended up a corpse. Immediately it was over the mask would slip back into place and she would simply walk away without a backwards glance. _

_Her skills as a killer were to be admired as one professional to another. Still, once his arrow had been released, master assassin or not, she would never see it coming. Another threat off the streets._

_Watching from his vantage point, Clint clicked out his bow and tested the string. Securing an arrow, he turned and carefully took aim. The Black Widow stood in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. There were no bystanders to consider, no wind resistance to speak of, and he was far enough aloft to make himself virtually invisible, it was an easy shot. Just as he was about to release the arrow, she stopped suddenly and crouched down. Barton wondered for a moment if she had somehow detected his presence, but, her attention had been diverted elsewhere. When she stood again she held in her hands a battered ballerina doll. Turning it over in her hands, the dirty toy seemed to have transfixed her. Hawkeye watched in fascination as she brushed the hair back from its frozen face, her head turned to one side in concentration as she smoothed down the doll's ragged pink tutu. For one moment, the redhead held the tiny toy to her chest and sighed out loud, her face turned upwards, eyes closed. Clint's sharp eyesight caught a tear trickle down her cheek. _

_The Black Widow was human after all. Suddenly, Barton couldn't do it. _

_He shifted his weight, a movement barely perceivable to the average human, but it was enough for Natasha Romanoff's eyes to snap open. She searched the rafters for the source of the sound._

_'Damn' Clint muttered under his breath. He noticed her eyes widen slightly as she finally located him. Within a split second she was off and running, the ballerina now abandoned once more on the warehouse floor. _

'Agent Romanoff... what are you doing?' Clint's voice was controlled as the Russian trailed her fingers down his bare chest, across his stomach and was now playing with the waistband of his sweats. She smiled coyly.

She had turned up in his room unannounced and wearing the skimpiest of night clothes and Clint Barton had immediately been on his guard. He may have brokered a deal with Fury on her behalf not three days ago, but it wasn't only the Director who didn't trust the new comer. The Black Widow might prove to be a huge asset to the agency or just as easily she could become a massive liability, either way, it had been made abundantly clear the latter would be most definitely on him. Hawkeye had recruited her. Now they were ensconced in S.H.I.E.L.D H.Q. while she was assimilated and he was debriefed. However, she seemed to be trying to get a little insurance in a debriefing of her own. It would be a foolish man who forgot how deadly she could be.

'Are you saying you don't like it?" She whispered, taking a half step closer. He could smell her perfume, sweet and heady.

Gripping her wrist gently but firmly, Hawkeye stopped her downward ministrations.

'You don't have to do this.' He said.

There was a slight confusion behind the eyes that anyone less observant would have missed. In a millisecond she was back in character.

'I only want to say thank you.' She purred. 'You could have killed me at any moment, yet you spared me... gave me this chance. I should be able to show my appreciation?'

She nibbled her bottom lip seductively, glancing upwards in that shy way that had made many a man melt.

Manipulation is her stock in trade, Hawkeye reminded himself. Had he not already seen what she could do with his own eyes, he still would have been wary. His grip tightened.

'You may not want to thank me when you find out what's involved.' He said seriously.

'Yet I should still thank you for my being alive?' Natasha leant in, the satin of her chemise brushing his bare chest. Her scent was intoxicating.

Clint inhaled deeply, allowing himself the moment before returning to business.

'Your thanks have been accepted.' He said brusquely as he removed her hand from where it rested on his abdomen and stepped back.

A flash of annoyance crossed the Widow's face. 'You're turning me down?' She asked incredulously as she folded her arms.

'Not turning you down...' Clint placated softly, not wanting to turn his back on a fellow assassin. He suspected she would not take rejection well.

'How else would you describe it?' Natasha arched an eyebrow as she tried to work out what he was up to.

Barton sat on his bed, still facing her. 'More of a rain check for an indefinite period.' He refused to squirm under her steely gaze. Even he couldn't believe what he was doing.

'Rain... check?' She said slowly.

Clint shrugged.

'Rain check?' The words rolled around her mouth.

Getting to his feet, Barton gave an open gesture. 'Think of it this way. There may or may not come a time when you want to consider this...' He indicated the two of them with a back and forth motion of his hand. '...not because it is something you have to do or because you want to gain control or even because you feel you need to repay a debt. There should be no reason other than you want to.'

Natasha's brow furrowed. 'What makes you think I don't want to?' She asked.

'You're trying to tell me I'm that irresistible?' Clint countered cheekily, his head to one side in question.

Despite herself the Russian gave a small smile.

"Didn't think so." He said as he flopped back on to the bed. Propped up on his elbows he surveyed the Black Widow. 'All I am saying is if we're going to work together successfully there needs to be a bit of respect... and that goes both ways.'

Natasha considered the statement. It was something of a new concept to find a man who could resist her charms so easily and she did have to admit the respect idea had some intriguing appeal. 'Very well.' She said eventually. Turning to leave she reached the door. Her hand lingered on the handle before a thought seemed to occur. 'Although you believe there will come a time when I will find you irresistible?' She asked thoughtfully, her gaze now trained on the other assassin.

'Of course.' He responded with a completely straight face, 'I'm adorable.'


	2. Chapter 2

TWO YEARS LATER

'This is Agent Hannah Foster.' Coulson said coolly as he entered the training room with someone in his wake. Natasha stopped hitting the punch bag and eyed the stranger warily. The girl was young, very young, but, as Natasha had been recruited as a child, she knew youth was no measure of ability. Slim and petite, Foster wore her blonde hair tied up in a pony tail, a few wisps fell forwards across worried blue eyes. The girl stepped forwards and held out her hand.

'You're the Black Widow. I have heard so much about you.' Foster stammered.

Ignoring the outstretched hand Natasha glanced at Coulson questioningly.

From above Hawkeye slid head first down the rope he had been climbing, his boots screeching at the speed of descent. He stopped with his nose inches from the ground. The girl jumped back nervously.

'And the show off is Agent Barton.' Coulson said rolling his eyes.

'Hawkeye...' Foster said in awe.

'Forgive my partner's rudeness.' Clint said as he back flipped from the rope. 'She's Russian.'

'Проказник!' Natasha chided with an indulgent half smile aimed only at the archer.

He grinned in response, the two now apparently oblivious to their visitors.

Hannah's mouth formed a perfect O as she struggled to think of something to say.

'Agent Foster has been transferred from records. It seems the powers that be now believe her ready to start work in the field. Our next mission is relatively simple so they think it will be a chance for her to gain some valuable experience.' Coulson said far too brightly.

Foster continued to stare at Clint as he unstrapped his gloves, his attention still on his partner. The awkward silence soon became unbearable to the senior handler.

'Yes well!' Coulson said briskly. 'Now that we've all gotten to know one another, we'd best move on. Agent Foster?'

Hannah Foster was mooning like a lost puppy. 'Ahem!' Coulson coughed snapping the girl to her senses. 'Very nice to meet you both.' She gushed, but her comment was aimed solely at Clint Barton.

* * *

'You're jealous!' Hawkeye said, although his voice was somewhat muffled given the Black Widow currently had him pinned down with his face in the training mat.

'Don't be ridiculous!' She snapped.

This morning's briefing had not gone to The Black Widow's liking; in fact the last few days had been something of a trial. The trainee handler, Agent Foster, seemed to make it her business to sit as close to Hawkeye as possible. At everything he said she simpered and sighed and, Natasha thought crossly, she wouldn't have said he was _that_ fascinating or _that_ funny. Every opportunity Foster would touch his arm or lean across to fill up her water glass, brushing against the archer in the process. Her partner appeared to be lapping up the blonde's attention which grated even further. On more than one occasion Coulson had needed to draw Barton's mind back to the briefing, Natasha had even been forced to kick him herself.

It had been very satisfying.

With a twist Clint Barton managed to release his arm and swept away the one holding Natasha Romanoff's weight. Knocked off balance, he used his legs to continue the momentum until the roles were reversed. She lay spread eagled on her back as he straddled her.

'Then why have such a bug up your arse about it?'

The Russian assassin met his questioning gaze with a deadpan one of her own. Arching her back she threw her assailant to the right until she was once more in control. 'If I was even the smallest bit jealous...' she said coolly, 'which I am not... then she would be dead.'

Clint shrugged as if to concede the point. He wriggled to the side, but Black Widow was too quick for him. 'So what exactly is your problem with Foster?' He grunted.

'I think she's unprofessional.' She replied.

'Unprofessional?' He said arching an eyebrow before throwing more weight into his movement, The Widow attempted to roll away but he gripped her arm and forced her forward with sheer brute strength. This time Natasha found herself facing the mat. 'Because a pretty girl is nice to me... that is unprofessional?'

Natasha turned sharply until they lay nose to nose, his weight still pinning her to the ground. 'So you do think she's pretty?' She asked.

'Yes, I think she's pretty, don't you?'

'She is not _Notre dame_ ugly.' The spy agreed reluctantly..

'How very gracious of you.' Clint grunted as she fought against him.

'Do you intend to have intercourse with her?'

Hawkeye almost choked at the unexpected question. It was all the advantage the Black Widow needed. As he pulled back, she curled her legs under him and wrapped them around the soldier's neck forcing him down on to the mat in a strangle hold until he tapped her thigh in submission.

'What sort of question was that?' He muttered bad temperedly once she had finally released her grip. They sat side by side on the edge of the mat. Clint kicked at the gym floor in irritation.

'Is that not the kind of question friends ask each other?' She asked innocently.

'It's not a question we ask each other.' He said rubbing his neck.

'Aren't we friends?'

Clint blinked. The vulnerably act wasn't ever going to work, yet she still tried it from time to time.

'We're a kind of friends.' He said warily. Still they did not make eye contact.

'So?'

'So what?'

Under her breath, Natasha growled but it was enough for the hawk to pick up.

'Natasha.' he said gently. 'She's just a bit star struck. Remember she's been stuck in a basement somewhere collating data, now she gets to come up here and play with the big boys and girls. She wants to learn, do well in the field, she sees being nice to me as a way to achieve that. You should be impressed with her tactics.'

'But does she have to be so...' She said the words dripping disgust.

Clint bumped her shoulder with his own, an amused smile on his lips. 'Just because you don't like physical contact with people, doesn't mean everyone else is the same.'

Natasha turned to face him. 'I touch people.' She said indignantly.

'Kicking their arse does not count as touching.' He teased.

'It's contact.' She defended.

'It's not exactly... affectionate.'

'Affectionate?'

'You know, affection, that thing normal people do when they like each other.'

'Affection is a weakness.' She said automatically.

'She's got to learn the ropes somehow.' Clint said diverting the Russian's thoughts from her training with the Red Room where any emotion was forbidden. 'Better she does it with Agents who know what they're doing. She'll be gone soon enough.'

'Coulson doesn't like it.' Natasha countered.

'Well unfortunately we are in something of a difficult situation,' He sighed, 'as you keep threatening to torture and kill all your handlers. The only one who doesn't actively run from looking after you is Coulson. If you are going to stop terrifying them all and become more nurturing then you can have Hannah in Budapest...?'

Natasha looked at him blankly.

'Agent Foster?'

When there was no recognition, Clint continued.

'The subject of this conversation?' He waved a hand dismissively. 'Anyway, on this job I don't mind babysitting the rookie. Think of it as I'm taking one for the team.' Clint got to his feet and flexed his neck as the vertebrae clicked back into place.

'But it helps that she's pretty?' Natasha asked.

Barton considered it for a moment before shrugging, with a wry smile he added. 'It doesn't hurt.'


	3. Chapter 3

Walking away from the training room Clint silently berated himself. 'You're an ass Barton.' He knew he shouldn't provoke The Black Widow, it was like poking a tiger, but sometimes he simply couldn't help himself.

To be honest he hadn't really noticed that Agent Foster paid any more attention to him than anyone else until Tash had made a few barbed comments. It seemed the would-be handler had a little crush, that was all, and normally he would have ignored it, but it amused him to see how much it irritated his partner. Foster was pretty and sweet yes, but she was no Natasha Romanoff and getting a reaction out of The Black Widow was too good an opportunity to pass up.

It wasn't strictly true that Natasha was completely cold; one of the few people she allowed close was him. Whilst their relationship remained completely platonic, he couldn't deny the chemistry between them.

_About six months into their partnership they had been required to go undercover as a newly wed couple. Staying in a hotel in Dubai, they established very early on that they were being tailed and the honeymoon suite had been bugged. Whilst public displays of affection were required to keep up the pretence, they were acts devoid of all emotion and dropped the moment the two were unobserved. Both agents concentrated on the job in hand._

_Later as they retired to the bridal suite it would have appeared unusual to those listening if there hadn't been the sound of lovemaking given their cover story. They lay side by side on the giant bed staring at the ceiling. Propping himself on an elbow, Clint began to grunt and sigh whilst Natasha, looked on in vague amusement. _

_'You could join in any time?' He hissed under his breath. _

_A vague smile played around her lips, but still the Widow remained silent. Scowling at her reluctance to help, Clint continued with the charade, beating the headboard rhythmically with a fist to add effect. _

_'Oh God!' He shouted, indicating with his other hand that Natasha should co-operate. Her amusement was clear as she shook her head. 'I'm the silent type.' She mouthed._

_Rolling his eyes, Barton continued with the solo performance. __'Oh... oh... yes baby...'_ As the tempo and his vocalisations of fake ecstasy increased Natasha leant across and whispered 'Not very inventive Barton.'

_Clint shot her a look of infuriation which only made it harder for her to suppress her hilarity. As the finale approached, he suddenly stopped the thumping and yelled 'Yabba, dabba, doo!'_

_It was too much for Natasha. Her eyes widened with surprise and she could no longer hold back her laughter. Aware that hooting with laughter would effectively give them away, she buried her head into her partner's chest, her shoulders shaking with an effort to regain control. _

_It was the first time Clint had ever made her laugh, really laugh. He'd noticed increasingly over the months the façade would slip and she would smile at something he said or did. Her stand offish attitude had even begun to soften in those moments there was just the two of them, but she never ever lost her composure, until that day. _

_It was infectious, and Clint pressed his lips tightly together, not daring to start laughing himself. _

_The shaking began to subside and he felt her take a deep breath. With her red hair ruffled, she finally raised her head: there were tears in her eyes. Unfortunately, the moment she looked Clint in the eye, the corners of her mouth began to turn up again. She immediately buried her face and the shoulders began shaking once more._

He supposed that was how it started. Since that day she'd come to his room to seduce him and he'd turned her down, they'd kept things professional, neither one willing to cross the line. But, the distrust of each other had broken down over time. Now there was no-one he would rather have his back on a mission or otherwise, and, despite it being unspoken, he knew the feeling was mutual.

_On a job in Minsk, Clint watched from his vantage point as Natasha negotiated some parked vehicles. She'd told him to meet her at the rendezvous point before activating radio silence, but something was making the hawk uneasy, there was a sniper unaccounted for. Barton was going no-where until he made sure she got to safety. Clint turned, aiming his bow. 'Where would I hide?' he muttered under his breath. Scanning the likely hiding places, his sharp eyesight picked out the toe of a boot just poking out from behind a building. The gunman was well concealed, and there was no way even Hawkeye could kill him without shooting around corners. However, the shooter had a clear sight to Natasha and that was going to be a problem. The only thing he could think to do was draw the fire, otherwise The Black Widow was a sitting target. Taking careful aim and allowing for the cross breeze, he released the arrow. It sailed through the air in a perfect arc before imbedding itself in the visible toe cap. There was a squeal of pain. Natasha looked up at the sudden sound, before locking her widow makers on the source. As she released the weapon, the __gunman got off a lucky shot towards the archer. Soon after the man was lying prone from the widow bite with arrow through his chest for good measure. Unfortunately, Hawkeye had taken a bullet in the leg. When they regrouped at the abandoned farmhouse they were using as a base, Natasha couldn't fail to notice the pronounced limp and combats soaked in blood. _

_'Why didn't you go' She'd accused, her eyes drawn to his injury._

_'I wasn't going to just leave, you were wide open, __and it's a good thing I didn't otherwise this bullet might be in you!'_

_Natasha had scowled and called him names in Russian._

_'You're welcome.' He'd snapped, wincing as he sat down heavily in a wooden chair. Miles from any medical attention, and refusing to listen to her partner's protestations, it fell to Natasha to remove the slug, clean and stitch the wound. Clutching the bottle of local vodka for pain relief, Hawkeye had winced before she even touched him. _

_'Don't be such a __ребенок__.' She'd muttered before taking out her razor sharp stiletto knife to slice open his combats.._

_She'd been surprisingly gentle. There were nurses in the med bay he'd wanted to kill after their heavy handed ministrations, but Tash's cool fingers had done the job easily with the minimum of pain and no further remonstrations. _

And that's how it was. The occasional shoulder bump like today, little touches here and there. He loved that he could make her laugh how they teased each other all the time, and drove Coulson mad with their constant bickering. No-one else would dare take such liberties with the Widow. It had built up over the months and years until they were so comfortable it became a habit to always be in physical contact when they were at ease. Whether it was as blatant as her head resting on his shoulder after a long mission or as subtle as his foot on her chair through a briefing it was for the most part unconsciously done. Being close with her was the most natural thing in the world. He'd said they were a kind of friends and that at least was true. Whatever the definition of their relationship, the connection they had went far, far deeper.


	4. Chapter 4

The tap on the door to her room in S.H.I.E.L.D. had not been unexpected or unwelcome. Before every mission, if he was in H.Q., Clint would stroll by and delight in getting in Natasha's way as she packed her minimal belongings and cleaned her weapons. It had become one of their rituals.

'Don't you have anything better to do?' She'd sighed good-naturedly only to be surprised as Agent Foster's worried face appeared around the door.

'Am I disturbing you?' The blonde stuttered, she seemed unwilling to venture further in to the Widow's private domain.

'What can I do for you Agent Foster?' Natasha smiled but her tone could have frozen the sun.

'I... I wondered if we could have a little chat... woman to woman.'

Natasha raised the pistol she had been cleaning and looked down the barrel, making the young agent even more uncomfortable. 'Is it regarding the mission?' The Widow asked, 'It should be very straight forward and Barton is an excellent agent.'

The two handlers had been working in tandem during briefings and preparations, however on the ground; Foster would be assisting Hawkeye whilst Natasha would be working with Coulson.

'No... No... I am sure Cli...' she stopped herself, seeing the raised eyebrow on the assassin's face, 'I mean Agent Barton... I am sure he will take very good care of me.'

'The brief is simple, I am sure you will be back in your cosy office where you belong in no time.' If Foster understood the jibe, she showed no sign.

'No... It was about Agent Barton actually...' The girl looked up nervously.

'What about him?' Natasha asked sharply.

'Well, it's a little delicate...' Foster wrung her hands, she took a shuffling step forwards.

'I assure you there is absolutely nothing delicate about Agent Barton.' Natasha snorted as she folded her arms across her chest and waited for the girl to spit it out. Her stance did nothing to put Foster more at ease, nor was it designed to.

'It's just... well I wondered if... you see...'

Natasha coughed pointedly.

'You and Agent Barton are close and I wondered if you knew if he was involved with anyone?' Foster gabbled quickly. She glanced up to see the Black Widow's reaction.

The inference was clear. This insect was asking Natasha if Clint was hers. The temptation was to say yes, claim him, and put a stop to the handler's silly ideas once and for all.

'Agent Barton and I are partners.' Natasha snapped.

'Yes I know, but are you in love?' The desire for information had made Foster bold.

'Love is for children.' Natasha said coolly.

Encouraged, Hannah continued to gabble. 'It's just that... we'll obviously you are really beautiful and some people seem to think that you and Agent Barton are together and some people say that 'oh no, The Black Widow would never get involved with another agent' but you see I really like Agent Barton and I don't know whether he likes me or not I mean I think he probably does but...'

'Stop talking!' Natasha snapped holding up her hand. 'I don't see as my relationship with Agent Barton is any of your business.' Before the other woman could reply she continued. 'And your interest or romantic intentions towards him are none of mine. Now we have a job to do. I would suggest you get on with it because if you are unable to concentrate on the task in hand without indulging in adolescent fantasy Agents could die, Agent's like Barton.'

Opening and closing her mouth, the tears welled up in Foster's blue eyes.

'Don't just stand there in the doorway blubbing.' Natasha added as the girl still a. Foster moved to take a step into the room, clearly expecting some kind of comfort. Natasha stopped her with a look.

'I meant go and indulge your inappropriate emotions somewhere else.' She snapped waving a hand dismissively towards the door.

* * *

Running down the corridor with tears streaming down her face Agent Foster almost ran directly into Clint Barton as he made his way to the Black Widow's room.

'Agent Foster? What's the matter?' He asked in concern. His hands rested upon her shoulders where he had steadied her. Unable to speak, the girl simply sobbed.

'Did something happen, has someone hurt you?' Tearful women were not an area Hawkeye excelled in, so in the current situation he was at something of a loss.

Hannah shook her head; she merely looked back along the corridor towards his partner's door just as the Russian kicked it shut. Renewed sobs wracked her shoulders. It was obvious the girl had a run in with Natasha.

'You don't want to take any notice of Agent Romanoff...' He said kindly, before adding as an afterthought, 'unless she threatened to kill you... if she threatened to kill you, you might want to take some notice.'

Eyes wide with horror at the idea, Hannah shook her head.

'Then you probably don't have very much to worry about... probably...' Even to Clint's own ears he didn't sound very sure.

'I... I... only...' Foster stammered.

Placing a friendly arm around her shoulder, Clint steered her down the corridor and away from his partner's room. 'Agent Romanoff doesn't really like to be disturbed before a mission.' He said gently, feeling the need to redress any offence caused by his partner, especially as he felt at least partially responsible for unleashing the widow's wrath. 'It would probably be wise to remember that.'

With Clint's arm around her shoulder and his undivided attention, Agent Foster was suddenly feeling very much better.

* * *

They walked to the military transport together as normal.

'I missed you last night, what happened to you?' Natasha asked.

Clint grunted. 'I was clearing up a mess. A certain agent leaving your room in floods of tears...? I can't stand tears!' He said in exasperation. 'What did you do to her Tash?'

This was not a conversation the Black Widow wanted to have. Damn the girl. 'I didn't do anything to her. You know I hate being disturbed prior to an operation. I don't know how you tolerate the wet little thing.' She snapped.

'Ok... ok...' He held his hands up in mock surrender. 'It's a good thing I didn't get to you then if you were in that mood. I smoothed it all out in the end.'

She knew he was trying to make light of it, but the words cut all the same. He had spent the time... her time... with Agent Foster.

Natasha was aware he was still talking but she was deep in thought. Much as she hated to admit it, she did think of Clint as hers, exclusively, and she had believed he felt the same way. Rather than admitting how she felt to Foster, or even more importantly, to Clint, she had just assumed everything would always stay the same. Now ridiculous as it may seem, someone else could be threatening to take him away from her. The thought filled her with such terror at losing him that the realisation of her feelings struck her like a thunderbolt.

* * *

The two assassins would fly into a private airfield in Budapest; their handlers would take the commercial route. Once they had each reached their designated destinations, Coulson would make contact with her and Foster with Barton. 'Hey!' The shout caused both to look up. Agent Foster was running across the tarmac. Barton seemed just as surprised as Natasha. The blonde stopped in front of them, breathless. Her look towards The Black Widow suggested she would like some privacy, but with her newfound introspective Natasha did not feel like obliging.

'Hannah, is something wrong?' Clint asked putting down his bag.

Foster dithered for a moment in an agony of indecision before suddenly grasping Hawkeye's face in her hands and planting a kiss on his lips.

Once he was finally released Clint's face was a picture of shock.

'For last night.' Foster explained, blushing to the root of her hair.

'Um... thank you?' Barton responded uncertainly running a hand through his hair.

With a small kind of bob, Agent Foster turned and almost skipped back down the runway with the object of her affections staring after her. Mouth open Clint looked at Natasha in astonishment. 'What the..?' He said.

'Last night?' The Russian said, her expression leaving no doubt about what she thought his comfort entailed.

'Tash...' He said, but she had already turned and was striding towards the aircraft.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N A big thank you to everyone who has been reviewing, following and favouriting my little story, I'm loving writing it. Here our hero remembers another one of their missions.**

**Enjoy. x**

* * *

'You're pissed at me?' Barton asked as he strapped himself into his seatbelt in the hold of the C-5 Galaxy. Natasha hadn't said a word through the pre mission checks. The silence was starting to unnerve him. He'd even tried singing which normally drove her mad, but this time nothing.

She fixed him with a cool stare and deliberately left a seat gap between them.

'You're pissed.' He muttered in confirmation as he secured the final clip.

As the aircraft left the ground Barton tried to think of something to say.

'She kissed me!' He shouted eventually in exasperation over the noise of the engines. 'Do you honestly think I spent the night with her?'

Natasha turned and glared at him before turning away making it clear there was going to be no further discussion on the subject.

It was a ridiculous situation. 'I have no self control all of a sudden?' He though to himself. 'There are times Romanoff when you've no idea how much temptation I've resisted.' His mind wandered to a mission in the South China Sea. 'I deserved the medal of honour for that one.' He snorted.

_Off the coast of Southern China, Natasha had gained intelligence reporting a cargo ship, the _Ānquán tōngdào _sailing out of Hong Kong. Nothing unusual in that, however, she had discovered that this vessel was actually under the control of a Triad breakaway group. Following the disappearance of well known Chinese chemist Lo hu Phat, they now knew that the scientist was being held hostage in order to produce a chemical weapon which the faction could sell to the highest bidder._

_Parachuting covertly onto the deck at dawn, Hawkeye had neutralised most of the crew before anyone realised he was there. Unfortunately the Red Pole enforcer had managed to escape. Before Hawkeye could reach him, Lo hu Phat lay dead and Red Pole had released the chemical and scuttled the boat before taking a life raft to safety. The __Ānquán tōngdào was now on a collision course for the Paracel Islands and if it hit the entire area would be completely destroyed, unable to sustain life for at least a thousand years_. _Conveying the information over the coms, Barton could hear the concern in Coulson's voice. 'You have to get out of there. That stuff is pure poison.'_

_'No can do, if this bucket hits then it's a long and painful death for every man, woman and child on those islands. I have to find a way to turn the boat.'_

_'And how exactly are you planning on doing that?' Coulson asked almost conversationally._

_Clint looked at the mangled steering system and grimaced. 'That's the part I'm working on.'_

_Red pole had certainly done a good job. The rudders could not be manipulated from the bridge, or the ship stopped, the only solution would be to go below decks and attempt to shut down the engines manually. He relayed his plan to Coulson._

_'That would take you directly through the chemical lab...' The fact that Barton would certainly be contaminated hung in the air unsaid._

_'Clint?' Natasha said softly, he had not been aware that his partner was listening in._

_'No choice Tash.' He said, trying not to show how grateful he was to hear her voice. 'I've always wanted to be able to glow in the dark anyway.' _

_Natasha was not convinced by the lightness in his tone. A slow death through chemical warfare was one of Clint's biggest fears, not that he would ever admit it to anyone else. She could only imagine the courage it took for him to go into that lab._

_Just as the ship was half a mile from the closest Island, Clint managed to reach the manual override and the engines slowed until they were finally silent. _

_As he emerged from the hull blinking in the early morning sunlight, Natasha stood on the deck waiting, her arms folded. Overhead a Blackhawk helicopter hovered, a line descending to just behind the black widow. Clint could see the pilot wearing a chem suit. He couldn't imagine why Natasha wasn't wearing the same._

_'Don't come any closer!' Clint said, holding up his hands. _

_'They're sending a tug to take the ship out to a safe distance while they decontaminate.' She said._

_'You should get out of here.' The effects of the chemicals were starting to affect his body; he stumbled forwards, just as Natasha's arms reached him._

_'Tash... you'll be contaminated...' He coughed, already realising it was too late._

_Back at the small Asian base, the process for decontaminating the two agents had to begin as soon as possible._

_'We have one booth. I suggest the sooner you are both clean, the better your chances of no ill effects.' The tech said from inside her protective suit. 'You'll have to share.'_

_And that was how Clint Barton found himself in a far too small contamination shower standing with his back to Natasha Romanoff, both of them completely naked._

_He was grateful that the neutralising solution was icy cold, that helped. There were some functions that no man can perform at that temperature. But, even facing away from her, every hair on his body stood on end at her close proximity. The fact his eyes pointed the other way didn't stop his mind wandering to every curve of her body and how he so desperately wanted to explore her that his whole being ached with longing. It certainly focussed his mind away from his fear of chemicals._

_'You should have worn a suit Natasha.' He said, teeth chattering as another icy blast of decontaminate hit them. _

_'And let you have all this fun on your own?' She snipped back, unable to keep the chill out of her own voice._

_He'd been grateful to have her there, despite how stupidly she'd put herself at risk. Changing into Shield sweats, he watched her as she dried her red hair with a towel, and realised how this woman meant everything to him. He'd never really believed that there would be something between them that first day; it was merely a case of placating an enemy. Now things were different. She would put herself at risk for him, and he knew he'd die for her if necessary._

_Natasha had always manipulated men, she used sex as a weapon as much as a gun or her widow's bite. He knew she felt something for him, but her training in the red room left her wary of any emotional attachments she saw as a weakness. He could not push her, she would have to be the one to let him in and that could take a lifetime. Fortunately, patience was one of his strengths._

'Are you really not going to talk to me?' He asked after they'd finally landed and left their seats. 'What are you, twelve?' He goaded. With still no response, finally in desperation he placed a hand on her forearm as she attempted to push past. Anyone else would have soon been holding a broken wrist but the Black Widow settled for a look designed to maim not kill.

'Nothing is going on.' Clint said quietly. '_She_ kissed _me_.'

'It's none of my business.' Natasha snapped as she tried to barge past him towards the ramp.

The kiss was indeed incidental in Natasha's mind. How many times had Clint watched from his vantage point as she'd kissed and cooed over a target to obtain information? It had never occurred to her that perhaps he had the same feelings she was experiencing now. She wasn't jealous she told herself. There was no reason to be. There was nothing going on between her and Barton. A little niggly voice at the back of her mind snorted in derision. When they first met and Barton failed to kill her Natasha believed that he would be as easy to manipulate as any other man. But when her initial attempts at seduction had failed, and subsequent temptations had been ignored, her opinion gradually changed. Missions sometimes required they share a bed, pose as a couple or even once ended up completely naked and in each instance, while the cover was always maintained, he had never once attempted to cross the line. She had gained a respect for a man that she would have never thought possible. As time went on she was surprised to find their intimacy was important to her, she relied on it, and it was the threat to that closeness that angered her the most.


	6. Chapter 6

'Tash this is ridiculous, why are you so angry?' Clint stood on the ramp barring her way. The look of genuine confusion on his face did nothing to alleviate her own frustration. She stepped sideways; he moved to block her escape. 'She was upset, I cheered her up.'

'She obviously believes there is going to be something between you?'

'There is nothing for her to believe!" He said in exasperation.

'I... don't... care...' She lied before snapping. 'Now get out of the way!'

Hawkeye stood his ground. The Widow intimidated other people, he did not subscribe. 'For someone who doesn't care you're being a hell of a bitch about it?' He challenged, folding his arms and refusing to move.

Natasha simply glowered at him, it wasn't a point she could argue.

'For god's sake.' He continued when it became obvious she wasn't going to say anything. 'It was just a damned kiss from a kid who knows no better. You of all people should know a kiss is nothing until both of you mean something to each other, and when I do kiss that someone she will be left in absolutely no doubt how I damned well feel about her!' He snapped. 'Think about it.' So rarely did Clint lose his patience with her it left the Widow open mouthed. Picking up his quiver he turned and strode down the ramp leaving Natasha where she stood.

* * *

There hadn't been a chance to speak to Hawkeye since their argument. He had already left by the time she reached the hanger, so she made her way to the back street hotel she would use as a base. She knew Clint would still be disappointed in her lack of faith in him... in them and that he was likely to be sulking.

She opened her bag and, taking out two cocktail dresses,shook them out.

Coulson would be waiting for her to check in. Clicking her earpiece in to place she knew that she had a direct line to the handler. Coulson in turn would also have a coms link to Hawkeye in case there was a problem. She also had no doubt that Barton would be listening in on her coms as well as his own. Many were the times on a mission he would suddenly chirrup in her ear, much to the annoyance of their handler who was trying to keep communication to a minimum. Clint claimed eavesdropping on her missions helped alleviate the boredom when he was on surveillance but Natasha knew he really just liked to know she was ok and she had become dependant on his interruptions for the same reason. He might be angry with her at the moment, but he would still be there for her, he always was.

'Are you reading me Natasha?' Coulson sounded in her ear.

'Welcome to Budapest Agent Coulson.' She responded.

She knew that Hawkeye would have found a nest by now on the opposite side of the city and would be watching his target. Foster would no doubt be simpering in his ear. The Widow blanked out the thought, the girl wasn't a threat.

'Perhaps you can help me. Would you recommend the red or the blue dress?'

There was a definite pause between her question and the response.

'The blue.' The Agent said a slight smile in his voice, 'It matches your eyes... apparently.'

Natasha smiled to herself. Hawkeye was listening.

* * *

_On a solo mission in Moscow, Natasha had been infiltrating a spy ring. The informant had given up his fellow agents easily and The Black Widow was soon on an aeroplane back to the United States. The flight should have taken approximately twelve hours; however, no sooner did it seem that she had taken her seat, than the flight attendant announced they would be landing in LAX. She had no memory of the entire flight, but she put it down to exhaustion. _

_Returning to base, Clint was out in the field so Natasha decided to drop in on Coulson and find out what her partner was up to before she even unpacked._

_'Natasha.' Coulson acknowledged as the red head strolled into his office._

_'Coulson.' She nodded. 'Anything exciting happening?'_

_The Agent had a strained look that began to give her a sick feeling in her stomach._

_'Barton was compromised.' He said quietly._

_She raised her eyebrows, not wanting to ask what she needed to know._

_'He's pretty beaten up but o.k.' Coulson said, 'fortunately he was able to fight his way out. He plans to make his way across country and 'borrow' an F-16. He should be __arriving within the next few days._

_Natasha relaxed. _

_'What was the job?'_

_Coulson's frown deepened._

_'Uzbekistan?' He said, as if Natasha already knew._

_She shrugged, obviously completely unaware._

_'Natasha. You came to see me three days ago and insisted I tell you where Barton was and what he was doing.'_

_The Black Widow shook her head. 'Don't be ridiculous, I only arrived this morning.'_

_Coulson shook his head, the frown lines deepening. _

_Activating his coms, he asked. 'Agent Hill. Could you please patch me the last three days internal surveillance for Agent Natasha Romanoff please?'_

_'Right away.'_

_The monitor on Coulson's wall sprung to life. Natasha couldn't deny that was her walking down the corridor into her room. Later there was footage of her talking to Coulson and even taking time to practice her ballet in one of the fitness studios. She recollected none of it._

_Suddenly, the monitor froze. There was a still of Agent Romanoff activating a communications system._

_'Hill... can you correlate the systems and tell us what was sent from that console?' Coulson asked._

_Natasha stared wide eyed as Hill's voice came back over the tannoy. 'It was an encrypted message, the tech lab are looking into it now.'_

_'What was the message Natasha?' Coulson said accusingly._

_The Black Widow glanced between the monitor and Coulson as if she couldn't believe her eyes. 'I... I don't remember any of it!'_

_The next few days had become a whirl of tests and medical examinations while the Black Widow was kept under voluntary incarceration in the medical wing. She felt as though her brain no longer belonged to her. To make matters worse she had started to experience odd flashbacks featuring the Red Room. She saw herself dancing, on stage in the Bolshoi, a memory she knew to be falsely planted in her childhood. She was in S.H.I.E.L.D sending a message revealing the details of Clint's mission, she could still remember the codes. Finally, most disturbing of all, a ledger filled with page after page with blood. As she turned each leaf the red stained her hands, her body... it dripped from the pages, gushed until she felt herself drowning. Each time she woke in a cold sweat, trying to block out the images, telling herself they weren't real, when they felt as though she'd lived through it all._

_By the time Clint finally arrived she could no longer tell fantasy from reality. Coming into her room, he was shocked to see her cower away in fear. _

_'Natasha... it's me... you're ok...'_

_She shook her head, confusion addling her brain. 'No, no, no, no.' she moaned. 'I betrayed, you, I betrayed everyone... So much blood on my hands...'_

_He sat next to her on the bed. With trembling fingers she reached out to touch the angry purple bruise on his cheekbone extending from a black eye. He winced._

_'I'm so, so sorry.' She cried._

_'No, Natasha, stay with me, listen to my voice. I'm o.k. it wasn't your fault.' He'd taken hold of her hand. 'They believe something activated a sleeper trigger in you. It was put in as a fail safe when the Red Room brainwashed you. You're going to be all right... I promise I won't leave you.'_

_She didn't know how long it went on, but she held on to that promise. Every time she woke he was by her side. If she fought he restrained her, if she was afraid he comforted her, and when she sobbed with grief his arms wrapped her tightly until her tears subsided and she drifted into an exhausted sleep._

* * *

The most annoying part was he was right... That was how he saw it when she was seducing other men. The mark didn't matter, so it didn't matter. In a business where lies and betrayal were part of the job description it was all an illusion. There wasn't anyone she could rely on to always be there for her, except Hawkeye. He had seen the best and the worst of her, at her strongest and most vulnerable. She suddenly very much wanted to know what a kiss felt like when it could actually meant something.


	7. Chapter 7

The operation would be two fold. Natasha would talk her way into a charity event that evening and make contact with the suspect. He was a particularly nasty piece of work, a mafia don affectionately known as The Butcher, real name Alberto Piccota. Intelligence had it that he was supplying arms to rebel insurgents for a very health profit. Natasha needed to find out when the next shipment was due and what was on board, by any means possible. In the meantime Clint would wait until it was time to take out Piccota's suspected arms supplier, Andor Barta. He was a man also well known to S.H.I.E.L.D who was suspected to be heavily involved in organised crime, murder, and trafficking. It was time for the Hungarian to meet his maker and the only thing currently preventing an arrow through his heart was the suspicion that he was involved with Piccota.

* * *

'The blue... it's the same colour as her eyes'

Such a simple statement, but Hannah Foster kept turning it over in her head. It wasn't what Hawkeye had said, but rather how he'd said it. Coulson hadn't even had time to answer for himself before Clint had jumped in to choose Agent Romanoff's dress. It also proved that Barton was keeping a close ear on the Russian spy.

Foster had detected a certain coolness in Clint's manner towards her since they'd made contact in Budapest, but, she told herself, it was because he was working, not because the kiss was a mistake.

There was gentleness in the way he spoke about Natasha Romanoff that made her uneasy. In fact everything about the Black Widow made Foster uncomfortable, not least the way she obtained her information. Surely Agent Barton must know what the Russian was rumoured to do to get what she wanted? The widow put men under a spell until they told her everything, perhaps Agent Barton was also bewitched?

Hannah nibbled her fingernail as she thought over the problem.

'Nothing we can do now until Natasha checks in, may as well make ourselves comfortable.' Coulson said cheerfully, interrupting her thoughts. They were using a local hotel room as their base of operations. Picking up a newspaper, Coulson sat in one of the room's wing backed chairs.

'Perhaps we should check in with Agent Barton?' Foster asked the hope in her voice painfully obvious. 'He might be glad of the company?'

Coulson shook his head. 'Judging by the mood Barton's in at the moment, I would suggest leaving well alone. If he wants us, he'll call in.'

'Do you think something happened with Agent Romanoff?' The blonde asked.

'I'm not sure if it's easier when they are fighting or flirting.' Coulson replied good naturedly as he opened the newspaper.

Coulson eyed the young woman coolly over the top of the broadsheet. He'd been as surprised as anyone when the blonde had kissed Barton. The look on the archer's face had been a picture, not to mention the reaction from Natasha. Fortunately for Foster, the Black Widow's anger seemed to have been redirected somewhere over the Pacific, and judging by Barton's current humour, it had gone his way.

Coulson didn't want to know what had gone on between the two agents as long as it didn't affect the mission. They would sort it out between them, they always did. Foster on the other hand could possibly do with a gentle steer in the right direction.

'I suppose Agents who work closely together will clash sometimes?' She asked doggedly.

Rolling his eyes the older agent agreed. 'It's a very intense relationship.'

'A working relationship?' Hannah asked.

'I really wouldn't know.' He said smiling in a way that suggested otherwise.

'But they fight and argue all the time, you said so yourself.'

'Oh yes.' Coulson agreed, 'I sometimes think if it wasn't for the job, they would be killing each other.' before adding pointedly, 'although I certainly wouldn't want to be in the shoes of anyone who ever tries to get between them.'

* * *

Strolling into her own hotel room the next morning, Natasha slipped off her high heels and stretched. It had been a long night but Piccota had been like putty in her hands. He readily confirmed what they suspected, and now Barta could be taken out once the shipment had been received later that day. She would need to report in to Coulson as she hadn't been able to use the com system all night. Clint might even have stopped sulking, she really needed to speak to him. She'd played his rebuke over in her head, and it was obvious that she was going to have to be the one to take the first step. Clint would never push her, or ask for something she wasn't prepared to give, so she would have to let him know she was ready for something more. But first she needed to wash the smell of Italian mobster from her body.

* * *

'Any news from Natasha?' Barton's voice crackled over the coms.

'Good morning Agent Barton.' Hannah said brightly. Hawkeye ignored the greeting.

'You know perfectly well there isn't, since you've been waiting for her to call in.' Coulson said patiently.

'How are you?' Foster tried again.

'Considering I spent the night on a roof in the rain like a gargoyle, I'm unsurprisingly damp, cramped and cold. How was the cosy hotel room?' Barton said coolly.

Hannah couldn't quite hide the hurt look that crept across her face.

'Very pleasant actually.' Coulson cut in. 'We have croissants... I see you're going to be a little ray of sunshine again today?'

Whatever Barton said in response was cut short at Natasha's voice came over the coms.

'Coulson?'

'Natasha. What's the story?'

'As we suspected. The handover is at three this afternoon at Barta's.'

'Excellent so it's a go.' Coulson confirmed to both agents.

'The blue dress obviously did the trick.' Hannah said snippily under her breath.

'It was a late night.' Natasha continued. 'Barton can probably stand down and get some rest. Piccota can't hold his vodka so nothing will be happening before zero hour and I doubt Barta will risk anything in the meantime that will interfere with this shipment. I could use a few hours sleep myself unless I can find someone to join me for breakfast?'

Natasha fully expected some comment from her partner, but clearly a night on surveillance had done nothing to improve his temper. If he was going to be childish then she would have to raise the bait.

'Oh and I will be staying on a little at the end of the mission Coulson.' She said conversationally.

There was silence at the other end as Coulson tried to process her sudden random train of thought. 'O.K?' He said simply. 'Any particular reason?'

'I've always thought it a wonderful city; in fact, there's a rain check I'm looking to cash in while I'm here?'

Natasha smiled to herself as she imagined Barton processing that particular piece of information. There was silence from the handler for quite some time.

'Is there something I should know?' Coulson eventually said wearily.

There had clearly been some reaction at the other end.

'Nothing you need to worry about Agent Coulson.' She said with a grin as she clicked the magazine into her pistol. 'I'll be handling it personally.'


	8. Chapter 8

Clint Barton sat along the crossbar at the very top of the Liberty Bridge and stared down into the Danube. It was always easier to think when he was high up, as if the altitude helped clear his head. Having some down time before the job was a curse as well as a blessing. There was no way he could sleep after Natasha's announcement. Hawkeye smiled to himself, just like her to drop something like that on him in the middle of a mission. It would be madness to see the Widow now, although his immediate instinct was to find her. The last thing he would do was jeopardise the mission and potentially compromise them both, so he settled for taking a walk, and that had inevitably brought him here.

'Agent Barton?' Clint glanced downwards to see Hannah Foster in the doorway of the nearest Custom house tower. The agent eyed the narrow ledge between her and Hawkeye nervously.

'Hannah? What the hell are you doing here?' He said getting to his feet.

She took a step out onto the ledge, looked down and hastily reached for the wall to steady herself.

Gracefully Clint traversed the ledge between them until he had ushered her back inside.

'Not big on heights huh?' He asked, noticing the girl's hands shaking.

Foster shook her head. 'I... I came to check you were all right?'

'And yet I'm rescuing you.' Clint smirked. 'I'm more interested in how you found me?'

'Your file said...' She started.

'So you figured the circus monkey would prefer to be off the ground and this is the highest structure near to Barta's?' He finished. 'Perhaps we'll make a spy of you yet.'

Pleased with the praise, Hannah smiled.

'What's the problem?' Clint asked.

'No problem. I just wanted to check you were all right after...your coms are off? She stammered.

Clint looked slightly abashed in memory of the expletive he'd muttered over the coms after Natasha's admission. To be fair it had been an involuntary reaction 'But you really shouldn't be here.' He said, diverting the subject. 'What if someone had followed you? It could compromise us both.'

'I...?'

'That wasn't very smart.' Clint didn't mean it unkindly, but lack of sleep and his concern for the mission outweighed personal niceties.

'You're right... it was stupid... really stupid.' Hannah said in frustration. The Black Widow would never have made such a mistake, she thought angrily.

'Hopefully no harm done.' Barton said. 'I take it Coulson doesn't know you're here?'

'He thinks I've gone out for coffee.' She said.

'Then I suggest you pick up a couple of takeouts and get back to him as soon as possible.' Clint turned the young agent around and pushed her gently towards the door.

Hannah fought back the tears as she reached the pavement. It had seemed a good idea, to check that her Agent was O.K. She'd expected a better reaction, especially after the miserable night he'd had and the Black Widow upsetting him so much with her coded messages. But she'd made another mistake. The Widow was cold and uncaring, she would never have searched him out, and yet that was apparently something he admired. If that was what he wanted, then Hannah vowed that from now on she would be the coldest, most clinical, and best Agent that Hawkeye had ever seen. She would study The Black Widow, and make herself just as efficient.

So absorbed was she in her plan that she never noticed the black Mercedes as it pulled up behind her, or the two Mafiosi who stepped from the back seat. It was only as the chloroform pad was pressed over her face that she had a second to struggle before finally blacking out.

* * *

The fire fight showed no signs of abating. 'So much for an easy in and out job' The Black Widow muttered into her coms as she dodged the onslaught.

'They knew we were coming.' Coulson replied.

'You think?' She added reloading her pistols.

The handover should have been an easy mark had it not been for the virtual army of mercenaries who suddenly arrived in their droves. One mob had ascended the building where Hawkeye sat waiting to take the shot. The other had swarmed into the hotel complex where Natasha was preparing to distract Picotta until Barta had been eliminated. She would then finish the Italian herself. The sheer number of men seemed slight overkill for two assassins; however, their reputations obviously preceded them. Ascending the stairs of the hotel building two at a time, she finally reached the top. Nowhere else to run.

With a crash Natasha heard the incendiary device break the window of the floor below. It began to beep in a way that suggested her place on the skyscraper's roof was going to become very uncomfortable very soon. She looked around. The architects for this building had obviously considered space a good thing, given the distance to the nearest building there was no way she could reach safety short of growing wings and learning to fly. She cursed in Russian.

'Everything ok Natasha?' Barton said suddenly in her ear piece.

'Things have been better.' She responded.

The tempo from below increased as the bomb approached detonation point. Just as the spy began to believe all was lost, an arrow whizzed past her ear embedding itself in the brick work. It was shortly followed by her S.H.I.E.L.D partner, Hawkeye.

'Need a lift?' He asked amiably as he skidded to a halt. The dirt streaked across his face and body suggested Barton had been on something of an adventure of his own, Natasha imagined she didn't look much better but she'd never been quite so pleased to see the archer.

Firing the arrow across the void he caught the attached cable and tied it off. Hawkeye placed his bow across the line and motioned to Black Widow.

'Hold on to me!'

Once she had her arms and legs wrapped securely around him, he grasped either side of the bow and stepped from the ledge. The two slid at breakneck speed down the makeshift zip wire. Seconds later Barton's feet were landing on the opposing roof.

He felt his partner relax her grip as they slowed to a gradual stop.

"Thanks." She said lightly, and brushed her lips against his cheek before hopping to the ground.

Hawkeye glanced briefly in her direction, a mischievous glint in his eye as he pressed the button on his bow to release the line.

"What?" Natasha asked playfully. 'It's affectionate.'

Crossing the distance between them, Clint placed an arm around the small of her back and pulled her sharply towards him. Their lips met just as the rooftop they had just left exploded in a mass of flame and heat. It was not a gentle kiss. Adrenalin coursed through their veins, they were dirty and sweating and on a rooftop in the middle of a fire fight when two years of equally pent up desire finally came to the surface. It couldn't have been more perfect.

Breaking apart, Clint searched her face for a reaction. To his surprise there was almost shyness as she finally met his gaze, a genuine smile on her swollen lips. The smile was immediately matched by his own.

The door to the roof exploded open as an enemy soldier charged towards them screaming. Without even looking Natasha raised her pistol and fired. As the soldier collapsed to the ground she finally dragged her eyes away from Barton's.

"We were having a moment!" She snapped at the now prone body.

Hawkeye's grin widened as he gently turned her chin back towards him and pressed his lips against hers in a more tender gesture. With a final nod at the Widow he took an arrow from his quiver and turned to face the coming onslaught side by side with his partner. Natasha's answering smile faded as they prepared to deal with the squad of mercenaries now coming up the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

As the last of their assailants fell, Natasha wiped a sleeve over her face. The initial onslaught had been a fire fight, but eventually it had degenerated into hand to hand combat. Against The Black Widow and Hawkeye, the mercenaries never stood a chance. Those who had not succumbed had simply turned and fled.

A siren blared out in the street below. 'We probably should get out of here.' She said turning to her partner.

'You've got a little...' He waved a hand towards his forehead. Considering Hawkeye was covered in dirt and blood, and she was equally soiled it seemed a meaningless gesture, nevertheless, she wiped her face again. 'Better?' She asked.

Hawkeye nodded. 'Come look at this.' He turned a soldier over with his foot. 'Interesting.' He said distractedly.

'What is?' She looked down on the corpse dispassionately.

'Chinese?' She asked her brow furrowing.

'Where does an Italian and a Hungarian whip up a Chinese army in only a few hours?' Hawkeye said.

'And how did they know we were here in the first place?' Natasha finished.

The blare of sirens was increasing. Hawkeye stepped over to the edge of the roof and looked down. 'Time to go.' He said loading an arrow into his bow.

'We can't just take the stairs, no?' Natasha said wearily. With a grin the archer shook his head. Firing the arrow the head lodged into the concrete. He threw the line to Natasha. Slowly she joined him on the edge of the roof, their backs to the street below.

'Please tell me you're going to at least secure your rope?' She said.

Clint shook his head and loaded another arrow and line.

'You're a complete лунатик Barton.' She said shaking her head.

He leaned across and said quietly 'Where's your sense of adventure?' before stepping backwards off the roof. The archer's second arrow found its mark as he fell two floors and the two agents abseiled down the building unseen.

'We have another problem.' Coulson's voice came over the com system. 'Agent Foster went out for coffee just before this all kicked off, and she hasn't returned.'

* * *

The three agents had regrouped in the handler's hotel room. 'What do you mean she came to see you?' Phil Coulson asked Barton for the third time. 'What did she come to see you about?

The door to the bathroom opened and a much cleaner and refreshed Natasha emerged wiping her hands on a towel. Crossing the room, she threw the towel at her partner before flopping into the wing backed chair opposite and resting her feet on his thigh.

Barton wiped his face. 'I was at Liberty Bridge and she just appeared. I sent her straight back.'

'You think she's the informant?' Natasha asked.

'It's a possibility.' Coulson agreed.

Clint shook his head. 'I don't see it, she isn't the type.'

Raising an eyebrow the Black Widow turned to face her partner. 'Isn't not being the type the perfect cover for a spy?'

Clint shook his head. 'Some thing must have happened to her.'

'Her coms are off, she deliberately compromised one of our agents on a mission and attempted to infiltrate...' Coulson stopped.

'Infiltrate what?'

Natasha shrugged. 'It would go some way to explaining her behaviour towards you Barton.'

Clint stood up quickly spilling Natasha's feet onto the floor.

'You're saying she was trying to play me?' He said indignantly. 'Because I can tell you, nothing... and I mean nothing happened!'

'All she's saying is it's possible she led a tail to you on the bridge, that's all.' Coulson said calmly.

Clint paced the room.

'There is no guarantee that she ever planned to return anyway.' The handler continued. 'She could have been planted years ago by Picotta or Barta just in case we ever got too close.'

'I still don't believe it.' Barton said doggedly. He pointed at Coulson. 'If she was a spy, why didn't a squad come after you? She knew this exact location...'

Coulson shook his head. 'I don't know.'

Clint continued to pace. 'Is this what we do now? If I go missing on a job will it be assumed I've defected?'

'Of course not...' Coulson began. He was interrupted as the communication system crackled into life.

'Agent Foster reporting.' There was a quiver in Hannah's voice.

The three agents exchanged a look.

'Where are you Foster?' Coulson asked.

'I... I...' She began, before a male voice interrupted. 'Agent's of S.H.I.E.L.D, as you can hear, we have the girl.'

'Who is this?' Coulson demanded. The voice was thick with an eastern accent. It laughed. 'An old friend of Agent Barton's.' the man continued.

Clint frowned, trying to place the old adversary but drawing a blank. He shook his head at the others.

'Put Foster back on.' Coulson snapped.

'Agent Coulson?' The girl sounded terrified.

'Are you all right?'

'You've heard she's alive.' The man's voice was back. 'For now... and such a pretty little thing, don't you agree Agent Barton?'

'It seems I made much more of an impression on you?' Clint said. 'I have no idea who you are?'

The man laughed again, only this time it degenerated into a cough.

'All in good time my dear Agent.' He continued once the fit subsided. 'I need to give you my demands.'

'Which are?' Coulson snapped.

'A simple exchange, one agent for another.'

'If you wanted me you should have just come and said hello instead of hiding behind an innocent girl.' Barton growled.

'Nothing so simple.' There was a defined sneer in the words. 'You took something important from me, and now I m going to take something you love from you. This creature means little to you, but I doubt you'd want her slow and very painful death on your already burdened conscience.'

'What do you want?' Clint snapped.

'A simple exchange. I will give you the life of this young and innocent child unharmed in exchange for the Black Widow... unarmed.'

Coulson made a chopping motion to cut the coms.

'Hang in there Foster, we'll get you home.' Barton said before the connection ended.

* * *

'No way!' Clint said again. There has to be another solution.'

'Think about it. Natasha is more than capable of dealing with the situation, even without weapons.' Coulson said.

Hawkeye raised a hand to stop him. 'We don't even know what or who we're dealing with...'

'It's a good exchange.' Natasha cut in. 'Coulson is right. I go in, Foster comes out.'

'I don't like it.' Barton said before addressing the widow directly. 'There is no guarantee he won't kill Foster anyway, and whoever he is, he obviously thinks he can handle you. You'd be going in blind and unarmed.' He paused.

'I won't be blind, you'll be my eyes. It's my call Clint.' Natasha said firmly.

Hawkeye opened his mouth to speak then changed his mind. The floor was paced. 'I need some air.' He snapped eventually before storming out of the room.

Coulson and Natasha stared at each other in silence. Eventually the Black Widow's shoulder's sagged. 'O.k., o.k., I'm going.'

As she reached the door Coulson asked. 'Do you think Foster was in on it?'

Natasha considered a moment. 'If she was, then it was a hell of a cover.' She said grudgingly.

* * *

Clint crouched on the roof, his toes over the edge, arms crossed and resting on his knees. He peered downwards.

Natasha sat next to him, her back to the street. Her arm pressed against his.

'You really do look like a gargoyle.' She teased with a gently nudge.

Clint turned his head to look at her, resting his chin on his forearm.

'I don't like it.' He said.

'I'm not exactly crazy about it either.' She said. 'But it's the only logical thing to do.'

Natasha rested her head on his shoulder as they sat in companionable silence.

'Tash, do you ever wonder what would happen if one of us was compromised?' He asked eventually.

'No.'

'She's only a kid.'

'Clint, you're not responsible'

He snorted. 'Who if not me? I should have brought her back, damn, I knew she had a crush and I did nothing about it. I was too distracted, and now she's compromised, probably scared, that's if she's still alive, and now you're going into we don't know what...'

Natasha could see the torment raging in his eyes.

'I'll be fine. 'She said. 'You wouldn't let it end any other way.'

Clint nodded.

Gently cupping his face with her hand, Natasha smiled. 'And I promise Barton, if you're ever compromised, I won't rest until I've found you.' Clint leant into her touch. Natasha gave his cheek a small slap. 'I'd hunt you down so I could kick your arse myself for being such an idiot.'

Despite himself, Clint smiled.


	10. Chapter 10

Natasha walked out across the empty car park towards the rear of the building. Being unarmed held no fear for her. A trained agent of the Red Room could kill a man with no need for weapons. Clint would be watching from the roof of the building opposite, the sights of his rifle trained on the building for the first sign of movement. If their mystery man was stupid enough to show himself, Barton would put a bullet in him.

'Stop!' The shout came from an open service door. Natasha stood still and squinted to make out the source, but the man stayed out of sight. 'Look down!' He instructed.

On the ground were four large metal bracelets. 'You are to attach one to each wrist and one to each ankle.

'Foster first!' Natasha shouted back.

'Do you take me to be a fool Agent Romanoff! If I give you the girl before you're properly restrained, you will not keep your agreement.'

'At least let me see her.' Natasha insisted.

There was a general shuffling from the door area. Foster appeared, white faced, her kidnapper cowering behind as the blond shielded him from Clint's sights. Just as quickly they shuffled inside. 'Now, put them on.'

Natasha crouched and picked up the first bracelet turning it over in her hands. It was a thick metal with a hinge to allow a tight fit around the limb. She turned to the side, allowing Clint to view the device before finally slipping it about her wrist. Immediately the clash snapped shut. Experimentally Natasha tugged at the bracelet, but it was locked fast.

'Now the others.' His tone was becoming excited.

Clicking the remaining restraints into place, Natasha waited for her next instructions. A movement from the doorway made Clint immediately tense, but it was only Foster stepping out into the light. Tentatively she began to walk across the tarmac.

'Come on Foster.' Clint muttered under his breath. He trained the sight on the open door, but there was no shot available.

'Come to me Agent Romanoff!' The kidnapper instructed. Natasha didn't move, she wanted Foster clear.

Suddenly the bracelets crackled into life and an electrical charge shot through Natasha's body. She twitched involuntarily before sinking to her knees. Foster ran to her side. 'Are you all right?' She asked.

Gritting her teeth against the shock, Natasha nodded. She rolled her tongue around her mouth, grimacing at the metallic taste.

'Just a gently persuader my dear Agent Romanoff.' The voice sang out gleefully. 'You see Agent Barton; you see how I will tame your woman!'

Getting to her feet, Natasha took a tentative step forward. 'Get out of here Foster.' She said with effort.

'It's easier if you don't fight it.' The girl said, her eyes pleading. She lifted the sleeve of her shirt a little revealing a bracelet of her own. 'Please don't fight it.'

Placing Natasha's arm around her shoulder, Foster took the Black widow's weight helping her balance.

'Damn.' Barton cursed. 'You seeing this Coulson?'

From his own vantage point Phil Coulson shook his head sadly. It seemed that Agent Foster was part of the conspiracy after all, and now Natasha had been compromised.

Clint aimed the rifle at the back of Foster's head and placed his finger on the trigger.

Every nerve on high alert, Barton waited. A figure stepped out of the door way and strode across the courtyard. It wore a long robe and a dragon mask. Pulling his outer garment aside, he revealed that under the robe he wore a harness, at its centre a large gold disc.

'Got you!' Barton muttered, switching his target and taking careful aim. The figure raised a hand. 'This... Agent Barton.' He announced, pointing to the harness. 'Is a dead man's switch. If you take the shot I will send enough volts through your love that she will be fried from the inside out. Roasted Spider... mmmm... doesn't that sound delicious?' The voice goaded.

From above came the unmistakeable 'waka waka' of a helicopter. The craft descended into the courtyard, as a rope ladder unfurled from the open doorway.

'Ladies if you please.' A flourish of robe indicated the ladder.

As the women reached the bottom, fury flashed across Hawkeyes eyes. Natasha glanced briefly in his direction before she began to ascend the rope behind Hannah. Her look spoke volumes.

Flicking out his robe, the mask man turned and began to climb as the helicopter increased altitude. The sound of his laughter echoed in Clint's ears.

'I am going to find you.' Hawkeye growled. 'I am going to hunt you down and you are going to pay for this, wherever and whoever you are...And I am so going to enjoy it.'

* * *

Sitting in the passenger cabin beside Foster, Natasha could feel her heart rate returning to normal as the effect of the shock wore off. Their capture sat in the co-pilot seat.

'What are these?' She whispered to Hannah as she raised a wrist.

'He call's it his persuader. It gives you a shock if you don't obey. I only have to wear the one, I suppose he doesn't consider me as much of a threat as you...' Foster whispered back giving a weak smile.

'And who is he?' Natasha asked.

Hannah visibly paled.

* * *

After landing, the two female agents entered a large room plushly decorated in the style of the Ming Emperors, resplendent in gold and red. The masked man finished addressing two soldiers and with a wave of his hand they were gone.

'Please ladies, take a seat.' He indicated two intricately embroidered chairs.

'You're going to die so very very horribly.' Natasha said conversationally, a small smile playing across her lips.

The mask was turned to face her. 'You have so much faith in Agent Barton, it's really quite sweet.' He retorted. 'Your knight in shining armour swinging in to save you... unfortunately, even if he finds you, if he kills me, he kills you too.'

Lifting his mask, Red pole revealed the pustuled face beneath. 'You also assume that death holds some terror for me.'

Natasha stared into the bloodshot eyes.

'Believe me, my dear Agent Romanoff... after what I've endured, death would be a relief.'


	11. Chapter 11

Whoever Red pole had once been, he was now a monstrosity. A few wisps of black hair remained on his head; the rest presumably had fallen out. Great sores wept puss from his face, the rotten melted flesh exposed beneath ripped skin. He smelled of disease and death.

While Hannah averted her eyes from the creature, Natasha held his gaze.

'I'm sorry, but who _are_ you?' She asked as if the horror before her was completely normal.

'Why, am I so different from how Agent Barton described me?' Red pole chuckled.

Natasha shrugged.

'I am Barton's nemesis, the ying to his yang, the dark to his light...' He crowed.

Natasha shook her head in incomprehension. 'He's never mentioned you, sorry.'

Red pole was visibly taken aback. Regrouping, he waved a finger at Natasha in admonishment. 'You look to trick me my dear, but I long ago realised that Barton would have become tortured by me, by my escape from his clutches. He has been searching... searching for me, the one that got away...'

Natasha raised a finger to her lips as if thinking. 'What did you say your name was?'

Annoyance crossed the damaged face. 'You seek to toy with me Agent Romanoff. You see, Barton should have suffered the same fate, he too was exposed on the Ānquán tōngdào, tell me would you still want him if he looked like I do, how deep does your love actually descend?'

'I think there may be just few slight misunderstandings here.' Natasha said getting to her feet.

'What are you doing?' Hannah hissed.

Red pole took a step back as Natasha took another forwards.

'For one thing if Barton was going to have a nemesis they would already be dead. If there is one thing you can say about him, he's relentless. If you were on his radar.' She made a cutting motion across her throat and took another step.

'I'm warning you Agent Romanoff...' Red pole retreated again.

Natasha advanced. , 'I'm also fairly certain you are not the only one that's ever gotten away, but... and here's the thing, moron's like you don't keep quiet and thank their good fortune that they're still alive, they have to attract his attention again... And you really have attracted his attention.'

He pressed a small button on the harness and a light pulse of electricity coursed through the widow. She stopped momentarily before gritting her teeth and taking another step.

'Barton wouldn't have lost one second's sleep over you... in fact, he won't have given you a second thought... you're not his enemy, to him you're insignificant.'

Another charge crackled. Natasha's hair began to stand on end. She stopped, waiting for the pain to subside. Shaking herself, she took another step.

'And then we come to me.' Her eyes blazed. 'Love is for children and idiots. I am not, nor will I ever be, anyone's woman...' She growled. 'And I will never, ever be tamed. '

In his haste, Red pole backed into a small table holding a willow pattern vase. It wobbled precariously before the ornament crashed to the ground, shattering into pieces.

With a cry, he pressed the button once more, holding it down. Current ripped through Natasha. She refused to scream, but muscles spasms could not be avoided, crumpling to her knees, the room began to lose all focus before finally everything went black.

* * *

_The hospital fire had been tough on them both. Whilst the target, a surgeon testing narcotics on human guinea pigs, had been successfully eliminated, it was not before he had set a fire on the hospital ward. His intention being to kill all of his victims and claim his innocence; a bullet from Natasha had curtailed his plans._

_Unfortunately, the two agents had been unable to reach the stricken souls inside and they had perished. The images and the smell haunted their dreams._

_For a few nights after, the horrors played over and over in Natasha's head. In desperation she threw back the covers and crossed the hall to where Hawkeye was billetted. The full moon shone through the window, and she saw her partner lying on his back in bed, arms behind his head and staring at the ceiling. Turning his face her way, without saying a word, he pulled back the covers. Natasha stepped over the threshold and crept in beside him. Resting her head on his chest, she was grateful for the comfort of his arm around her shoulders and the steady beating of his heart in her ears. The soothing rhythm eventually allowed them both to be lulled into sleep. Neither spoke about it. In the morning whoever woke first would simply leave the bed and go about the morning's tasks. There was no question of sex or anything physical other than the closeness of someone they could trust. When the nightmares returned they sought comfort in the other's arms._

_One such night, in a safe house in Sofia, Natasha had tossed and turned in her bed unable to get the screams to go away but, tonight her partner's bed was empty. There was no sign of him anywhere else in the house. A movement caught her eye outside. Scaffolding had been erected across the top of the buildings, and someone was moving about._

_Lifting the sash window silently, Natasha watched as Clint walked barefoot across the poles, his arms outstretched in balance. Turning with his back to her, he hopped backwards. As he fell, Clint caught the pole and immediately swung upright into a handstand, perfectly balanced and straight, the weight taken by his muscular arms. He seemed frozen in time until his legs slowly descended into perfect box splits. Straightening once more, he curled his body, with perfect control until his feet once more found the meagre surface._

_Watching in fascination, it reminded Natasha of a ballet. Graceful and fluid, Clint cared nothing for the floors beneath him, he had no interest in a safety line, or net to catch his fall, when his mind was set he was fearless and determined._

_She rested her head against the window frame and the movement caught Clint's attention._

_'Hey.' He said quietly._

_'Hey.'_

_'You couldn't sleep either?'_

_Natasha shrugged._

_Nimbly, Hawkeye walked towards her across a beam. Just before the window he stopped and held out his hand._

_Natasha frowned._

_'Come on.' He said, extending the hand again._

_Peering over the window ledge, the Black widow grimaced at the street below, before looking back at her partner. He took a couple of steps back and forth. 'Come on, or are you too chicken?' He insisted._

_Climbing over the window ledge, Natasha looked down once more._

_'Look at me.' Clint said, clicking his fingers to get her attention. Their gazes locked. 'Just keep your eyes on mine, stay with me.'_

_Walking easily along the beam, Clint took both her hands in his. 'Tash, do you trust me?'_

_Natasha nodded slowly._

_'You know I would never let you fall.' Clint said softly as they inched out into the darkness._

* * *

Darkness, all around. Natasha resisted the urge to whimper as she slowly regained consciousness. There were arms around her. For a moment she imagined them to belong to Barton. He had found her, he hadn't let her fall, and he'd saved her.

As the foggy images cleared, she realised it wasn't him. Hannah knelt on the floor, her arms cradling the Black Widow. The girl had been crying.

Stirring, Natasha tried to look around. Where was Red Pole? It seemed they were alone in the chamber.

'Wha...' She tried to speak but her tongue felt far too large for her mouth.

'Oh, you're awake, you're awake!' Hannah shook her until Natasha pushed her away.

'What were you thinking?' The girl exclaimed. 'I told you not to fight it. You could have been killed.'

Struggling to sit up, Natasha coughed. 'I wanted to see how much voltage I could take.'

'Take for what? He could have fried you!' Hannah said, tears streaming down her face.

'If he does that he loses what he believes to be his advantage over Clint.' She replied.

'You think Agent Barton will come for us? How will he find us?' Hannah babbled.

Natasha struggled to her feet wobbling slightly. 'Barton will find us.' She said confidently.

He wouldn't ever let her fall.


	12. Chapter 12

_Natasha was ready. Stripped of all weapons and dressed in her uniform, she walked out of the hotel rear entrance towards the waiting vehicle. Coulson would drive her to the abandoned buildings where their mystery man had arranged to exchange her with Foster. Clint was leaning against the sedan, his arms folded. He was wearing casual clothes, jeans and a tee shirt, so as to blend in. Natasha thought the ray bans were possibly a little much. He stood up as she approached and took off the sunglasses..._

_As she reached him, Clint took her shoulders in his hands and rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed._

_'Natasha.' He said softly._

_The Black Widow pulled back. 'If the words 'be careful' are marching ill advisedly this way Clint Barton, I swear I will punch you so hard you will see stars!' She snapped._

_Clint's eyes opened wide in surprise as he opened his mouth to speak. He didn't get the chance._

_'Just because things have... developed... between us does not mean that you can start worrying about me. You are I are the same people doing the same job we were yesterday. A kiss cannot make any difference. We have to keep things professional. Sentiment clouds the judgement and you're likely to make a mistake... I need you not to make any mistakes!' She scolded._

_Barton had his head on one side watching her quizzically. _

_'Are you done?' He asked._

_She nodded once._

_He leant forward and pressed his lips gently against hers in a brief kiss. 'What I was going to say before you gave your little speech was, Natasha, please try not to kill him, I would very much like that pleasure for myself.' Smirking, he put the ray bans on with a flourish._

_'Oh.' Natasha responded non plussed as Clint held the back door of the car open for her. _

_The journey would take a slight detour to drop Clint off at the building he'd chosen for a vantage point. It was silent in the back of the car. _

_'All right, I promise I will try not to kill him.' Natasha said eventually as the Coulson pulled the black sedan over the side of the road. Barton hopped out onto the street and collected his bag of weapons from the boot. Slinging the duffle over his shoulder he leaned back into the car. _

_'Oh and don't forget, we have a date.' He said quietly with a wink before closing the door and banging on the roof. _

_Natasha's lips turned up in a small indulgeant smile as she glanced in the side mirror but the archer was already gone._

* * *

Foster paced the carpet, her hands behind her back. 'I don't understand how Agent Barton is going to find us.' Hannah insisted. 'We were taken away in a helicopter. Even he can't follow that... unless... unless he managed to fire a grappling hook and hitch a lift along with us.

The Black Widow sat in one of the ornate chairs her head bowed as she recovered from her ordeal. 'No.' she said simply.

'You don't know that.' Foster warmed to her theme. 'He could at this very moment be storming the building.'

'No.' Natasha said again.

The two were silent for a few moments.

'I can't hear anything.' The younger agent said eventually. 'That could mean he has overpowered the guards?'

'Agent Barton was not on the helicopter.' Natasha said with effort.

'Ah, you will have made a plan. I can help, what's going to happen?' She asked eagerly.

'Are you feeling better?' Red pole entered the room cautiously wearing the dragon mask. Natasha was almost grateful for the interruption. She lifted her head slowly to stare at the Chinese enforcer. Foster scuttled from her place to sit in the chair next to her.

'You need to let Foster go, that was your part of the bargain.' Natasha said slowly.

'It was Agent's Barton's part of the bargain to be suffering this...' He gestured towards his head. 'But of course, he is not.'

'If you hadn't run away we would have been able to decontaminate you.' Natasha countered.

'Ha! You expect me to believe that. You would have tortured me until I was no longer useful to you and then allowed me to die.' He scoffed.

Natasha shrugged. 'I didn't say it would have all been unpleasant. What will it take for you to let Agent Foster go?'

'In your current predicament, I don't think you have very much to offer my dear Agent Romanoff, do you?' Red pole attempted charm.

Natasha shuffled forward in her chair, the legs scraping loud on the floor. Red pole jumped.

'On the contrary.' The Widow said. 'If you release her I will give you my word that I won't kill you, in fact, I will even co-operate.'

Removing the mask, Red pole eyed the Russian Agent suspiciously. 'Why would you co-operate?' He asked.

'Barton wants the girl. He was willing to have me compromised in order to get her back... that does not make me very happy.'

Red pole tried to process the information. 'Are you saying that you are not the woman Barton loves?' He asked confused.

Natasha arched an eyebrow. 'You don't seem to be a stupid person. If I were would he happily send me in here?'

'He wouldn't?'

'Honestly, what man would send his woman...' Natasha cringed inwardly at the phrase. 'into a dangerous situation?'

The triad considered the problem. 'My informants were very certain...' although he no longer sounded so convinced.

'Agent Foster.' The blonde looked up nervously. 'When we left U.S. soil to fly to Budapest, did you or did you not kiss Agent Barton good bye?'

'Well... I?'

'A simple yes or no will suffice.' Natasha snapped, her eyes widening at the girl's reluctance.

'Yes.' Foster said miserably.

'We were aware of this.' Red pole said his bloodshot eyes now trained on Foster. 'But we were informed that this was simply a gesture and that Barton was in love with you?' The inference was not lost on the Black Widow.

Natasha snorted. 'I am a highly skilled Red Room trained Agent.' She said haughtily, ' If he ever had any intentions with regards to me they would have been most definitely extinguished long ago. Relationships within fellow agents could lead to compromise and I cannot allow that. I owe Agent Barton a debt and that is the extent of my loyalty. By agreeing to come here today to affect the release of Agent Foster on his behalf, I would have considered the debt repaid and I would be free, free to leave S.H.I.E.L.D and possibly join with someone else...' The statement hung in the air momentarily. 'However, as you have reneged on your part of the arrangement I still find myself indebted and trapped. I am simply trying to find a way out of the problem.'

Red pole scratched his head. 'In order to make Agent Barton suffer, I need the woman he loves...?'

Natasha held out her hands. 'Then you may as well let me go then.'

'But now _you_ may be willing to change allegiances?' He continued.

'Once my debt to Barton has been repaid and that can only be done by releasing Foster.' She added firmly. 'And I won't be needing the fancy jewellery.'

Red Pole looked from one woman to the other in an agony of indecision. 'The Black Widow would be a very powerful ally.' He muttered.

* * *

_Red pole climbed into the cockpit as the helicopter ascended whilst Hawkeye had already switched to his bow and taken careful aim. He was proficient with a rifle if the job required it, but his bow was his weapon of choice. The arrow flew in an arc before embedding itself in the undercarriage. Once he was certain the missile was secure he pressed the button on his bow for the stem and feathers to disengage leaving the locator beacon in the arrow's tip. __Wherever that 'copter landed, he could find it. _

_'I'm coming Tash.' He muttered as the craft flew away._


	13. Chapter 13

Slowing the Ducati motorcycle to a crawl, Hawkeye double checked the signal. He was on the outskirts of the Four Tigers Chinese market in Budapest's China town. 'That at least makes some kind of sense.' He said with a shrug.

The bird had landed around here somewhere, the problem would be finding where. China town offered very few high rise buildings that might accommodate a helipad and the sprawling market would have been obliterated by the rotating blades, yet still, his tracking device told him he was in the right place. Turning off the ignition, he swung a leg over the bike and decided to investigate further on foot.

* * *

'So that's part of the plan?' Hannah hissed into the Black Widow's ear.

Natasha raised an eyebrow as she rubbed her wrists. After what had seemed an age, Red pole had finally decided that Natasha working for him might also mean he had an additional ace up his sleeve against Barton. He had finally released her from her manacles. The Triad had now left the two women to engineer Hannah's return.

'What is part of the plan?' Natasha said coolly.

'You pretend that it's me Agent Barton wants so that he releases you from the cuffs and then you'll kill him?' The girl asked eagerly.

'I promised I wouldn't kill him.' Natasha stated, her icy gaze on the girl. 'You told him that Barton and I were involved.'

'Oh... well... only... um' Hannah stammered.

'That is why he wanted me in exchange for you.' There was no accusation in the tone, just a cold robotic statement of fact. 'To save your own skin.'

'No... No...' Foster stammered.

'How would you explain it?' The Widow asked.

Foster was lost for words.

'It does not matter. I believe this time you will be released.'

Tears welled up in the blonde woman's eyes. Ignoring the emotions, Natasha got to her feet and began to look around the room.

'What about you?' Hannah said, her voice thick.

'Me?' Natasha asked as she turned from where she had been investigating a statue of a tiger carrying a cub.

'How will you escape?' Hannah hissed.

The Black Widow looked surprised. 'Why would I escape? I have made a bargain with our host and, as you heard, my debt will be repaid. I am a free agent as it were.'

'You're not actually planning on staying with that... monster? What about Agent Barton, the two of you...?'

'For the last time Foster. Not everyone subscribes to this romanticized idea. It is possible for agents to work together without the need for an attachment. Perhaps Barton will consider you as his new partner?' Natasha put down the tiger and turned her attention to an incense burner. 'I would suggest on your release you contact Agent Coulson as soon as possible for debrief.'

Hannah could not fully hide her obvious interest in the arrangement and it did not escape Natasha's attention.

'What did you manage to learn about our friend's business dealings when you were captured. I always think it's important to have background on your partner.' She continued.

'What?' Hannah asked distractedly, 'Oh, yes he was involved with Barta and Picotta. I overheard him telling them about the hit and how it was going to be planned. He knew where the two of you would be and offered to supply his own men to neutralize you.'

Natasha nodded her head, the girl confirming what she already suspected.

'So, Agent Barton.' Hannah asked leaning forward conspiratorially. 'What's he like when he's not on duty? What does he do to relax?'

Looking confused Natasha put down the incense burner. 'Barton is always on duty.' She said.

* * *

_'Is there nothing else to do?' Natasha asked for the fifth time._

_After a particularly volatile job it was felt that the two agents should disappear for a while until international interest in them died down._

_Clint placed another arrow in his bow and continued his target practice. The two of them had been sent to a deserted cabin in the rocky mountains until Director Fury felt it was safe for them to return. They had only been in situ three days and Natasha was already climbing the walls._

_'Go for a swim.' Clint said, his eye on the tiny bullseye he'd placed in the distance. A short distance from the cabin was a small lake complete with jetty, Clint swam there most mornings in the ice cold water._

_'I don't want to go for a swim. There is nowhere to go, there is no communication, there are nothing but damn trees... spar with me!' She demanded._

_'My shoulder is still recovering where you dislocated it yesterday.' He said as the arrow was released. Curving, it missed two trees, flew through a tiny gap in a boulder and hit the target square in the middle._

_'I'm bored... spar with me.' Natasha said again._

_'No.' he countered with a wave of the hand before pulling another arrow from his quiver. 'Go shoot something.' Seeing the eager look on her face he added, 'not me.'_

_With a sigh Natasha watched as the second arrow was released. _

_'Ha! you missed!' She said gleefully._

_Clint held a finger in the air. 'Wait.' _

_From an almost impossible direction the arrow reappeared and struck the first arrow through the stem._

_With a smug grin he took another arrow from his quiver. Stepping forwards Natasha took the missile out of his grasp and snapped the wooden stem before throwing the debris on the ground. She smiled in challenge._

_With a sigh he took another arrow which immediately met the same fate._

_'Natasha.' He said wearily._

_'What?' She countered, a teasing smile on her lips. _

_As she moved to grab for the third arrow, Clint ducked, the momentum throwing the Black Widow over his shoulder. He was immediately off and running with her._

_Initially this represented something different so Natasha didn't bother to struggle, however, it soon became apparent the direction they were heading._

_'Barton, don't you dare... put me down!' She shouted, trying to free his grip._

_Muscular archers arms held her firmly in place as they began to final descent towards their destination. 'Barton... no!' She shouted as her partner continued to the bottom of the incline, across the jetty straight out over the lake where they both disappeared beneath the surface of the ice cold water._

_'You're insane Barton!' Natasha spluttered as she resurfaced but her partner was laughing so hard he was unable to reply._


	14. Chapter 14

What he needed was some height. He saw better from a distance and he was sure The Black Widow would have left some kind of signal. Across the street from the Four Tigers was the 'other' China town. Whilst the market was a sprawling metropolis of ramshackle stalls and clandestine gambling dens, opposite stood a cluster of old industrial facilities filled with makeshift shops selling anything a person could want to buy as long as they didn't ask too many questions.

Clint crossed to a large building sporting what remained of a fire escape. He reached the lower rung of the ladder and gave it a tug; it seemed to be sturdy enough. This would give him the vantage point he needed. Hawkeye began to climb.

* * *

Now that Natasha had been released from her restraints, she was also being allowed free rein of the building although she had been 'asked' not to go outside. Wandering around the mezzanine floor in the old industrial warehouse, she wondered again why Red Pole needed such a facility and what was he up to? Her thoughts were interrupted by the ever present Hannah who followed her around like a shadow.

'Do you really think I could make it as a field agent... even a spy?' The girl chattered.

By now the constant talking had become almost white noise and The Widow barely bothered to reply. She was considering how to get a signal to Clint. Presumably he would have tracked the 'copter but as they had left it on a small private plot a distance away he would have no way of knowing where they were exactly.

She needed something that he would notice but with Hannah constantly watching her it was proving challenging.

Spotting a door, Natasha walked towards it with Foster on her heels. 'Do you mind?' She said, indicating the ladies room sign. 'I need to go too.' The girl said innocently. Rolling her eyes, Natasha continued into the stall.

Above the cistern was exactly what she had been looking for. There was a small window, far too small for a person to fit through, but it would suffice as a means to the outside world. The question was what would be sufficient to attract Hawkeye's attention?

As quietly as possible Natasha stripped off her uniform and removed her underwear. Although it was black for the most part, the lace edges did have a flash of red ribbon. She had to hope that it would be enough. Once redressed, Natasha eased open the window frame and teased a small nail from the wood with her fingernail. Taking the panties, she wound the lacework around the nail securely before pushing it back into the frame. The material flapped encouragingly in the wind. Once the window had been closed silently she wriggled uncomfortably in her uniform. 'The things I do for you Barton.' She thought to herself before rejoining her colleague.

* * *

'Ladies, please be seated.' Red pole indicated either side of the dining table. 'You must be hungry?'

Hannah and Natasha sat opposite each other while their host took the head of the table. He was wearing his mask.

Waiters brought out a bowl of steaming rice, vegetables, meat dishes in sumptuous sauces and noodles.

'Please... please...' Red pole said, his hands outstretched towards the feast. Natasha helped herself to the rice.

'You're not eating?' She asked.

He sighed. 'Unfortunately my affliction means that the appetite of others is affected, another pleasure Barton has ripped from my life, but whilst I eat alone, I do enjoy the company with others.'

Fortunately the presence of the Triad seemed to subdue Foster although not enough to keep her completely quiet.

'How are you enjoying your freedom?' Red pole asked amiably. Natasha noted a something in his tone directed towards Hannah.

'It's nice to explore. You have quite the set up here, weapons, vehicles, space for a small army... 'Natasha said before she took a mouthful of rice and vegetables from her chopsticks.

'It's important to have the proper tools for the job.' Red continued.

'And what is the job?' Natasha asked.

'As you have requested I return this young lady to S.H.I.E.L.D, you can hardly expect me to reveal my plans?'

The widow shrugged a shoulder in acknowledgement.

'When... when will I be released?' Hannah stuttered.

'When you have fulfilled your purpose!' Red snapped, the fierce eyes staring through the mask.

Hannah shuddered.

'If you will excuse me.' He got to his feet sharply, scraping the chair across the floor. With a sharp nod, he turned on his heels and strode out of the door.

* * *

'I'd like a little privacy if you don't mind?' Natasha said pointedly as this time she closed the bathroom door firmly in Agent Foster's face. Once she was sure that the girl had taken the hint, she entered the stall and opened the window. Reaching outside she found where the nail was proud from the wood, but the underwear was gone.

'Damn.' She muttered, 'I really liked those.'

Peering through the window she tried to see where they may have disappeared to. Suddenly, Barton dropped from above and hung upside down in front of her.

'I got your note.' He said cheerfully, waving the panties in front of her nose.

Natasha waved to indicate he should keep his voice down. She nodded towards the door.

'So who's our guy?' Clint asked quietly. The fact that he was swinging in the breeze by his feet on the outside of a building several hundred feet above the pavement seemed not to bother him. Reaching through the window Natasha grabbed his tunic to keep him still. It was making her quite nauseous.

'Do you remember the Ānquán tōngdào?' She asked.

Reaching into the pocket of his tunic he took out Natasha's widow makers and handed them through the window. Clint shuddered. 'I do indeed. Not a fun mission.'

'Remember the enforcer who released the bio hazard and made me have a freezing cold contamination shower?' She responded, strapping the weapons into place and covering them with her sleeves.

'I was in that shower too!' Clint added indignantly. Another pocket revealed her revolver. Natasha shook her head indicating there was no-where to conceal it. The gun was returned to the vest.

'You might think on that a little more fondly when you get a look at what those chemicals have done to him.' Natasha added. 'His name is Red Pole; he's seriously on the wrong side of crazy and guess who he's chosen to be his nemesis?'

'Who?'

Finally, with a wide grin and arched eyebrow, Clint offered her the panties he still held in his hand. She snatched them quickly.

'You... идиот!' Natasha snapped.

Clint pointed at himself, his eyes wide with surprise.

'Bingo! He thinks I am going help him exact his revenge on you, as long as he releases Foster...'

'About Foster... she's working with him isn't she?' Clint growled.

'I'm not sure. At the moment she is changing sides so fast I don't think she even knows. Which reminds me, I need you to rescue her.'

'I thought you said she was going to be released?'

'Red pole seems in no hurry, but to buy my loyalty I think he will eventually.'

'So why the big rescue?' Clint asked.

'Because I need you to find out what she knows...'

Clint made a face. 'Do I even want to know how I'm supposed to do that?'

Tash smiled and patted his face, 'You'll think of something.'

'Can't I wait until she's out?'

The Widow shook her head. 'She needs to have her head turned by how brave you are.' She deliberately allowed the sarcasm to drip from the words as her partner grinned at the compliment. 'The air ducts should be big enough to accommodate you and your ego... and they run throughout the building.'

'Hey!' He protested.

'But more importantly,' His partner continued. 'If she doesn't stop talking at me, I am going to kill her myself.'


	15. Chapter 15

Crawling through the ventilation system was not Clint Barton's idea of a fun day out. He hated being anywhere enclosed much preferring the freedom of open spaces. Here he felt like a rat in a trap. Inching further along the shaft, he stopped by a vent. Far below on the main floor Red Pole was pacing back and forth, his robe billowing behind him. The minion he was berating in machine gun Chinese visibly cowered as the enforcer strode towards him. Pulling the mask from his face, he threw it across the floor as his barrage increased. The henchman averted his eyes.

His back to Hawkeye, the agent could only focus on the nearly bald, scarred head. As the Triad turned, Clint felt his stomach turn. The weeping sores and scars confirmed his worst nightmares about chemical weapons.

'I might actually start to feel a little sorry for the guy.' He thought. 'Or then again maybe not.' He continued to creep along the ducts.

* * *

Several wrong turns later, Clint was in a duct directly above the reception room. Checking the coast was clear he eased the grill from its housing and dropped silently to the floor. The room was gaudy to say the least. Glancing around the sumptuous surroundings and ornate wall coverings it seemed completely at odds with the impossible situation. Lifting a tiger and cub statue he scowled at its ugliness.

A noise outside the door made him freeze. Someone was coming in. Fortunately, the cluttered room held plenty of places to hide. He chose a wall sized tapestry depicting the Boxer Rebellion.

As Hannah walked back into the reception room she wrung her hands and sighed. Not for the first time since the mission began she longed for her desk in the records office.

'Hey.' A voice said making the blonde jump. She glanced around nervously.

'Over here.' It whispered.

The tapestry was lifted to reveal the very welcome sight of Clint Barton. Just as she was about the throw herself gratefully upon him, the door opened once more and her saviour instantly concealed himself.

Hannah stood nervously as Red Pole stormed into the room, his uncovered face full of rage. She turned away in repulsion. Clicking his fingers, the Triad indicated that she should look at him. Feeling braver with Barton in the room she managed to hold his gaze as he approached.

'What do you have for me?' He snapped.

Keeping her eyes firm, Hannah sniffed trying to stifle her terror.

Reaching out, Red pole took her face roughly in his diseased hand and forced her face close to his. 'I asked you a question.'

'Nothing.' She squeaked.

'You mean you have been unable to discover whatever the Black Widow is plotting? Have you not been watching her, have you not been questioning her? I offered you your freedom and yet you have reported nothing?' He demanded.

'I mean I don't think she is planning anything.' Hannah responded, her voice for once not faltering.

'You do realise that I could simply break your neck and not even realise I had done it?' Red said almost conversationally.

Her chin still held firmly in his grasp, she nodded as best she could. The terror was starting to grow in her eyes.

'So try again. What is the Black Widow planning and how will Barton be involved?'

'I swear to you.' She pleaded. 'Agent Romanoff has abandoned S.H.I.E.L.D and Agent Barton. She really is willing to work for you!'

Pushing Foster away, the Triad clasped his hands behind his back and strode back and forth. 'You informed me that she and Barton were inseparable, yet now you are trying to tell me that she would turn her back on him without a second thought?'

Hannah wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly. 'I... I don't know. Agent Barton seemed to be the only one she was... human with... the way they are together... perhaps it was just an act?'

'Who can say the fickleness of the female... ?' He levelled his gaze at her, 'you believe Barton may be in love with her or is it really you who is his Achilles heel and you are attempting to protect him?'

Foster squirmed, aware that Hawkeye was hearing every word.

Red crossed the distance between them, his voice low. Clint strained to hear. 'I do not think you know nearly as much as you led me to believe Agent Foster. In fact, I am beginning to think you may have been economical with the truth. Whilst I certainly find it hard to conceive that Barton would risk all for you, including his partner. I am beginning to think the evidence points that way.' He pinched her cheeks in a claw hand. 'Are you, I wonder, cleverer than I thought? That you would swear Barton's lover was Agent Romanoff in order I bring her here to assist you? It would be delicious to simply kill you and find out if you are the key. Perhaps I shall eventually...'

Hannah flinched. With a loud cackle Red pushed her away and strode from the room leaving the girl visibly shaking.

* * *

From his vantage point Clint frowned. He could possibly understand the junior agent doing anything she could to get assistance. He had to concede it was a clever plan. With Foster's limited experience there was no way she would have the skills to get herself out of this situation on her own. Natasha, on the other hand, the infamous Black Widow, this kind of thing was an everyday occurrence. In Red Pole's paranoid and obviously psychotic state, it would have been easy to plant the idea that the Triad had captured the wrong woman. His disgust at Hannah's apparent betrayal began to subside although it was tinged with guilt that he had immediately assumed her betrayal. Perhaps Natasha was right about affections clouding your judgement. He had to consider the real possibility that he had irrationally blamed Foster for dragging the woman he loved into this, albeit a woman who had a considerable body count in her history.

To actually form the idea into words, albeit only in his mind, gave Clint something of a jolt. He was in love with Natasha and probably always had been. It wasn't that anything had changed between them, not really. He still felt exactly the same about her as he did before the kiss, the only difference was now it wasn't just an unspoken assumption... it was a fact.

Shaking himself, Clint decided to put it out of his mind for now. Not that he would ever admit it to her, but Tash's instincts were spot on once again. The girl needed to be removed as soon as possible for her own safety and that is exactly what he was going to focus on.

As he stepped out from behind the tapestry Hannah was trying to hold back tears. 'I'm so sorry.' She cried. 'I didn't know what else to do. I thought he would kill me... now Agent Romanoff... and she won't help me... and... and...' She broke down into terrified sobs.

Crossing the room Barton put his arms awkwardly around her; she immediately leant into his chest taking great breaths as she tried to control her emotions.

'I've made such a terrible mess.' She mumbled into his shoulder.

With one hand he made comforting circles on her back. He stared straight ahead uncomfortably, really not sure what to do to make the tears stop.

'It's going to be o.k.' He said eventually. 'You're going to be all right.'

Hannah nodded against his shoulder. The tears seemed to have subsided but she seemed in no hurry to release her grip. Prizing her fingers loose he looked into her tearstained face. 'We need to get you out of here now?'

Nodding, Hannah tried to smile in gratitude. 'But I am going to need you to trust me.'


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N Ahh you beautiful, beautiful people. You have all been so incredibly kind to follow my story, favourite me and write reviews. I am incredibly grateful and humbled by your kind words. I know that the Clintasha loveliness was lacking a tad in my last chapter so, in thanks for your continued support and because, let's face it... it's what we all want to see, I offer you the following chapter to redress the balance and fan those flames of lust we know Tash is fighting (badly). **

**Stand by with the fire extinguisher.**

**Elf x**

* * *

They had made their way through the ventilation shafts to the outside of the building undetected and with no incident.

'Listen to me.' Barton said quietly as he hung out from the rope next to her. 'You can do this. I am here with you. You said you trusted me?'

Opening her eyes Hannah moved her head to look down again, Barton stopped her with a touch of his hand on her cheek. 'Don't look down.' He instructed.

Swallowing again, the girl nodded.

'I need you to turn to your left and take the rope in both hands.'

Nodding Hannah complied. Shinning down the rope two feet, Clint stopped.

'Lean back so that you are holding the rope with your feet on the edge. I will be right here.'

Once the girl had shakily complied, Hawkeye took the weight as she sat on his shoulders. 'Hand over hand we move down the wall... no need to rush, I have you... ok?' Slowly they made their way to the ground. Once on terra firma Hannah threw her arms around the archer. He patted her back awkwardly. Despite what Tash had asked him to do, Clint was fairly certain Hannah had simply acted out of fear.

He wasn't comfortable trying to get information through making faux love to someone. It was all right for the Black Widow, she could switch it on and off in the blink of an eye. No man would ever suspect the Russian spy was actually repulsed by his advances as she smiled. Clint was more transparent. The blonde agent was nice enough but he knew he couldn't be a convincing lover for any woman unless he genuinely desperately wanted her.

* * *

Natasha tried not to think about what she had asked Clint to do. It was merely to gain information, something she did all the time, but the idea of Clint in that situation was unsettling and the discomfort wouldn't quite leave her. The thought of him even flirting with Foster still smarted, let alone if he had to actually seduce the girl.

During their partnership she often used to tease him about his lack of accomplishments in that department. She declared that if they ever met a mark who preferred men they would be in big trouble. Her partner took the jibes in good part. He was straightforward, a soldier, not a spy. His skills lay with his weapons or logistics or combat or anything that didn't involve the whispering of bogus sweet nothings into some profitable ear. Despite knowing Clint had no interest in Foster, a fairly recent insight into the proficiency he had been hiding did nothing to alleviate her irritation. She was beginning to wish she had just asked him to torture the truth out of Foster instead.

* * *

_'I need you to come over here and try to seduce me.'_

_'Excuse me?' Clint coughed discreetly over the com system. 'You need me to do __**what**__?'_

_The couple were undercover separately at a gala in the Saudi Embassy in Paris. Natasha was trying to get close to a Saudi dignitary however, so far, the mark had shown definite interest in her but had yet to make his move. She wanted to give the fat oaf a gentle push and there was nothing like the attentions of another man to help things along._

_'I know it's a big ask. Just do your best.' She hissed before cutting the link._

_There had been no visual contact between them so far this evening. The party was so awash with international movers and shakers and the agents' attentions had been diverted independently, the only communication between them being the one Natasha had just made. _

_She stood on her own sipping from her champagne glass and making sure she was in full view of her target as she waited for Barton to find her. It shouldn't be too difficult; she had dressed to be noticed. Her hair was currently jet black curls. It had been wound high on her head with only the occasional tendrils to soften her jaw line. The long evening gown was in duck egg blue fitted silk. The front was plain to enhance her figure but the back plunged in a deep V that ended just above the curve of her buttocks. It was an outfit designed to draw attention._

_She became aware of a slight disturbance in the crowd. Turning, she saw Barton standing completely transfixed, staring her way from across the room. It was rare she saw the archer in dinner jacket and black tie but she had to admit it with his broad shoulders and toned body, was an impressive sight. He began to walk purposefully towards her as the throng parted in his path. She couldn't help but notice several ladies turn to admire him as he strode across the room. She sometimes forgot that her partner was an extremely attractive man. _

_Clint stopped in front of her. There was something in his eyes as they locked with hers, a fire behind the storm grey that gave Natasha's stomach a small jolt._

_'May I have the honour?' He asked holding out his hand._

_'You may.' She replied with a practised smile._

_Removing her glass, he deposited it with a passing waiter before taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor._

_With a quick glance Natasha checked that the dignitary was still watching. The man's interest had certainly been peaked with the sudden appearance of a handsome rival._

_Still holding her hand, Clint encouraged her to twirl whilst he looked on in appreciation. 'Beautiful.' He murmured._

_'Don't over do it.' She whispered as he took her in his arms. Saying nothing, Barton placed one hand on the small of her back, the other held hers. He did not press against her but rather made sure there was the barest space between them. With her hand on his shoulder she could feel the muscles moving beneath the jacket and she was suddenly very aware of her partner's powerful physique and intimate proximity as they moved with the music. _

_The hand on her back moved lower, inching down her spine. It came to rest at the base of her dress where cool fingers began to trace small spirals on her lower back. Every touch sent fireworks across her skin. At the same time she could feel his breath tickling against her ear. Her head was suddenly filled with nothing but him, his scent, his heat, his heartbeat in time with her own, everything else disappeared and, god help her, she melted against him. _

_She felt him smile as Clint dipped his head to the crook of her neck, his lips finding the sweet spot. Unconsciously Natasha arched her back as butterfly kisses were traced up her neck to the base of her ear. _

_'Absolute perfection.' He whispered as he nibbled the lobe, teasing it with his __tongue. Natasha felt electric shocks pulse through her as her traitorous thoughts imagined what else he could do with that tongue. _

_'Ahem... may I cut in?'_

_Brought back to reality with a jolt, Natasha looked into the face of the dignitary. All around guests were staring, some open mouthed. It occurred to her that she and Barton had been virtually having sex on the dance floor._

_Clint surveyed the interloper, the look on his face dark and possessive. She thought for a second he might say no, and at that moment, more than anything, she wanted him to. She could kill the Saudi herself for interrupting. With a curt nod Hawkeye finally assented. He took Natasha's hand in his own. Turning it over, he pressed his lips against the inside of her wrist. She knew he felt her racing pulse; it was certainly pounding in her ears... _

_'The pleasure was all mine.' He said throatily, before giving her hand to her new partner. _

_Recovering herself Natasha forced a smile for her target. As Clint stalked away she heard a lady in the crowd say dreamily, 'I wonder if he would dance with me._


	17. Chapter 17

Natasha Romanoff folded her arms and glowered at Red Pole. Currently two of his soldiers were unconscious, a third was sporting a broken arm, and the fourth cradled his broken nose in his hands as blood gushed onto the floor of the warehouse. Their mistake had been trying to force the Black Widow back into the electrifying manacles. She was not keen to co-operate.

'You... you helped her escape... you...' The Triad exploded.

'If you have lost the little S.H.I.E.L.D agent I hardly see how I can be blamed. For one thing I was here with you?' She stated coolly.

'Barton! Barton... he's responsible...' Little globules of spittle formed at the corners of his mouth. 'You're working together...'

'Excuse me, but part of our arrangement was that you release the girl and my debt to Barton be repaid. As far as I was concerned I was here in good faith. You believe Barton simply walked in here and spirited Foster away?'

'I don't know how he did it, but I know he did!' Red bellowed. 'You will help me exact my revenge on him.'

'I'm sorry, but you have reneged on your part of the bargain. My debt remains unpaid and while there is red on my ledger I am still encumbered.' Natasha responded.

'The girl is gone, your debt it repaid.' The Triad said dismissively.

'You say that she is gone. How do I know that you haven't simply disposed of her?'

'Are you saying you are refusing to work for me?' He spat.

'That does seem to be the case yes.'

The bloodshot eyes narrowed. 'You think Barton will come back and save you? Do you not think it odd that he took the girl but left you here?'

Natasha allowed her face to show a small amount of doubt.

'Ahhh you see my dear Agent Romanoff. The great Hawkeye has deserted you to your fate.' Red crowed. 'He has chosen her instead of you.'

Biting her lip and looking down as if she was trying to hold back emotion Natasha sincerely hoped that Barton wasn't listening to this. Great Hawkeye indeed. His ego would be so over inflated he would be impossible!

'Sense would dictate that I am the better option.' Red said in a wheedling tone. 'Barton may be prettier but I have all the aces.'

Conflict was written all over Natasha's face. 'I don't know...' She said uncertainly.

'Let me show you something that will help you decide.' He said, his broken face forcing a smile. Walking to the wall Red pulled a switch. Immediately the floor began to retract revealing steps stretching across the entire space. As more steps were revealed, Natasha stepped forward to see better. The moving floor stopped. In the concealed basement stood row after row of mechanical men. The Widow's eyes widened in surprise.

'Aren't they beautiful?' Red said proudly. 'I base them on the terracotta warriors from my home, but these have one additional feature.'

In his hand the Triad held a remote device. Pressing a button, the entire army stood to attention in a synchronised clatter of metal feet. Another button and the creatures began to ascend the staircase in formation turning left or right as they reached the top before reforming their lines on the remaining floor. Up close the warriors must have been seven feet tall. Taking a revolver from a soldier, Red Pole fired at a creature from close range. The bullets merely ricochet away leaving no marks at all.

Cackling in glee Red turned to the Black Widow. 'You are now left with two choices Agent Romanoff. Now that you have seen my creations you can reconsider my offer and join me in destroying Barton... or you can die.'

* * *

The Black Widow was beginning to wish she had chosen to reconsider. The metal army was slow and clumsy but what they lacked in speed and finesse they made up for in relentless determination to remove her from the face of the earth. Even the voltage from her widow makers did nothing to deter them.

From his vantage point behind a shatterproof door Red Pole laughed as he watched his creatures surround the Russian. One of his own soldiers who regained consciousness too late to run to safety had already succumbed to the metal beasts. It was only Natasha's speed and agility which was keeping her alive, but there were too many of them and they were closing in.

As the wall of metal advanced towards her, Natasha looked for a way out. Taking a run at the wall she managed to gain purchase and avoid the flailing metal arms. Leaping into the air she somersaulted over the warrior's head, rolling to a stop at the edge of the stairs. Watching for her next opening, she did not see the renagade metal warrior ascending the stairs behind her. Before she could react the Gollum had her in its vice like grip and was beginning to squeeze. No matter how much she struggled she couldn't wiggle loose. She could feel her ribs starting to crack and the air being forced from her lungs.

'Don't move Tash!'

Raising her head, Natasha could see Barton standing in the rafters. He had a steel tipped arrow pointed directly at her. Despite the pain, she tried to keep as absolutely still as possible. Releasing the missile, it flew through the air and, missing her head by millimetres, embedded itself in the warrior's chest. The creature staggered backwards with the sheer force of impact and released its grip allowing Natasha to roll sideways out of range. Trying to grab at the arrow, the gollum looked at the red flashing arrow tip almost quizzically until eventually the pulsating stopped and the arrow head exploded taking the creature's chest apart and it's head clean from it's body.

The other warriors were congregating around Natasha who was struggling to regain her breath. Barton threw a rope down to her. Holding her damaged ribs in one hand and wrapping the rope around her torso and other hand, she nodded to her partner. Attached to the other end of the rope Clint launched himself from the rafter. The rope had been slung over a beam. With his weight on the one side he was able to launch Natasha into the roof space and out of harms way. The creatures turned as their prey disappeared upwards just as Barton flew across the room. His feet hit the first warrior squarely in the chest. It wobbled precariously before falling over backwards.

Red pole could be heard shouting 'No... No... No...' As he frantically pressed buttons.

The creatures had been focussed around the Widow and now found themselves precariously close to each other. As the first warrior toppled it landed against its neighbour who, with the additional weight, also overbalanced. The domino effect was soon increasing as the warriors landed on top of each other leaving them floundering and pinned to the ground.

Completing his arc, Clint caught the beam on the upwards swing. Tripping across the rafters he reached Natasha who was trying to catch her breath.

'You ok?' He asked.

She nodded still breathless.

'Time I had a word with out friend.' Clint said gravely, clicking out his bow and selecting an arrow. He turned to where Red Pole had been standing but the enforcer was no-where to be seen.


	18. Chapter 18

An explosion shuddered through the warehouse throwing ash and debris over the two S.H.I.E.L.D agents as they sped away on the Ducati motorcycle. A search of the premises had failed to reveal Red Pole. He had made his escape and so Natasha and Clint set explosives around the metal army rendering them harmless. It was apparent that the Triad had reached his helicopter and was currently on the move out of the city. The agents were now in hot pursuit of the tracking device.

Natasha leant against Clint, her head resting against his shoulder one arm around his waist, the other holding her damaged ribs, as he accelerated. As the city streets disappeared behind them and were replaced by fields, the sky took on a black hue. Storm clouds were brewing. Before long the first spots of rain began to fall as thunder rumbled in the distance. The shower soon turned into a deluge as huge drops hammered from the sky. Visibility and road conditions were becoming impossible not to mention the two were completely soaked. Clint decided to pull over. There was a hayloft a little way from the road which would give them some shelter until the storm subsided.

As the Ducati slowed Clint turned his head. 'No point going on in this. The signal is static anyway; he's not going any further might as well wait it out.'

Natasha nodded, grateful for the break to ease her injury.

As the bike stopped Natasha suddenly asked. 'What happened with Foster?'

Clint tensed under her grip; it was not a reaction she was hoping for.

'She's with Coulson being debriefed.' He said far too quickly for the widow's liking.

The truth was Clint wasn't going to admit he had simply believed what Hannah had said. It was not the Widow's way and she'd never trusted the girl. Clint was more prepared to follow his gut instinct while his partner dealt in cold hard facts. It was easier for her to believe he had played the seducer to get the real story.

'You found out the truth?' She badgered.

'Yes I did.'

The question 'How' remained unspoken between them. Stopping the bike, Clint turned off the ignition and dismounted. It began to dawn on him that she was pissed and it made him suddenly very angry.

'You don't get to do this!' He raged. 'Don't you dare!'

'What?' She asked feining innocence

'What?' He leant across the handle bars facing her. 'Admit you're jealous.' He challenged.

Folding her arms, Natasha retreated into stubbornness. 'I am not jealous.'

'Do you know how many times I have watched you make love to other men?'

Silence seemed the best option so she simply remained so.

'I do not have a number there are so many... and yet... one girl... who, I hasten to add you _told _me to seduce, and you're a mess.'

'I am not a mess!' She snapped, but with wet hair plastered to her face it was hard to be convincing.

'Did you imagine us naked together?'

Her look of absolute fury confirmed what he already knew. 'You can't handle it!' He exclaimed.

Natasha looked away.

'The great unfeeling Black Widow genuinely cannot abide the idea of me with another woman.' the idea seemed completely alien to Clint he paced away before turning back to face her. 'You really can't?'

Natasha retreated behind her facade but Clint was not about to let her get away so easily.

'So what's the problem Romanoff?'

Natasha glared.

'You don't think I can compartmentalise the way you can? You think I won't be able to control my feelings and I'd fall in love with a girl because she actually showed she was human? Dear god woman, I spend the majority of my time with one of the most desirable and infuriating women on the planet... we even sleep in the same bed... I am damned world master at controlling myself! Or do you think I am actually stupid enough to fall for the trick when a woman pretends to show affection to get what she wants after I've seen how the expert does it! I know how you feel about the targets, I see you scrubbing your skin to get rid of the stain of them...'

The look in her eyes was if she had actually been slapped. Instantly Clint felt guilty.

Stepping off the motorcycle painfully the black widow turned away, trying to hide that his words hurt more than her physical pain.

'Natasha...'He said softly stepping towards her.

Keeping her back turned, she tried to rein in her emotions.

'I don't understand.' There was such real care in his words. 'You really think I'm that weak?'

She shook her head, grateful that the rain would hide the tears streaming down her cheeks.

'Then what is it? Please...' There was such tenderness it broke her heart.

Facing him suddenly she had no other escape. She raised her voice above the relentless rain. 'It's not you who's weak, it's me... I love you.'

Clint stopped, completely floored by her words. 'What?' His voice was hoarse.

Having gotten the initial statement out, Natasha became bolder. 'I love you.' She stated again. 'You're an idiot, an impulse fool, you're irrational, a show off, a clown and one day you're going to get us both killed. I don't want to and I've tried to pretend otherwise, but I can't help it, I love you... and it's terrible!'

* * *

'You're shivering.' The silence had been unbearable. They had both stepped under the shelter as the bombshell of her admission sunk in. Clint could stand it no more. Stepping towards her he extended his arms to wrap her up in them.

'Don't.' She said, shaking her head. Confused Barton stopped where he was.

'You know I feel the same way don't you?' He said.

Natasha nodded miserably.

At a loss, Clint sat on a hay bale. He was relieved when she sat next to him, their arms resting against each other.

'It's not really _terrible_.' He said as they both stared ahead.

'I've been compromised.'

'Things are no different today than they were last week. It'll be fine.'

'Last week I wouldn't have been jealous.'

Clint suppressed a grin at her involuntary admission and the denial he knew just wasn't true. 'There was no need to be.' He bumped her shoulder. 'She told me what happened without any need for...'

'And you believed her!' Natasha exclaimed automatically.

'Which is why I didn't want to tell you?' He continued as he rolled his eyes.

They lapsed into silence again.

'It could be a positive thing?' He began.

She arched an eyebrow.

'We can take care of ourselves so we'd never have to worry and as for seduction that's really your thing anyway...?'

'But doesn't it drive you crazy?' She asked, turning to face him.

Clint shrugged. 'It's what you do, it gets results... plus I occasionally get to kill one of them... it takes the edge off.'

Natasha couldn't help but smile at the matter of fact way he put it.

'I can handle it.' He added seriously returning her gaze.

She nodded.

'If I am going to have someone watching my back I would rather it was someone who gave a damn.' Clint said before a mischievous glint appeared in his eye. 'Plus think of the fun we could have to liven up really long stake outs.'

Natasha really smiled at that. Leaning forward she pressed her lips against his enjoying their warmth.

'You realise I will probably never say it again?' She said.

Clint shrugged as she leaned in for another kiss. This time she was insistent as she opened her mouth against his, her tongue exploring.

Taking her shoulders in his hands Clint pulled her closer as they blended in to one another.

Suddenly the communication system burst into life.

'Barton!' Coulson snapped in his ear.

Breaking the kiss. Clint wrapped his arms around Natasha and pulled her close to him. She rested her head on his shoulder.

'Coulson. Impeccable timing.' Barton responded. 'What's up?'

'Where are you?' Coulson asked.

'Barn on the road out of the city, why?'

'We've just had a message from someone calling themselves Red pole. Apparently he is going to blow up a random building in the city every hour until to turn yourself over to him.'


	19. Chapter 19

The back doors of the black transit van stood open as Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton checked their weapons. Phil Coulson had driven to meet his agents, brief them, and supply everything they might need to eliminate the threat posed by Red pole.

'I suppose someone has checked that he actually has planted bombs?' Clint asked the handler.

'We can't afford to take the risk.' Coulson looked at his watch. 'And we have approximately fifteen minutes until we find out for certain.'

'So we have no idea where they are, which buildings or how many people could be in danger?' Natasha asked wincing slightly as she reached for her garrotte.

'Is Natasha injured?' Coulson asked Clint in a hushed whisper.

Clint responded with a barely perceivable nod.

'Should she be going?'

'Do you want to tell her she can't?' Clint hissed back. Out loud he asked 'How's the ribs Tash?'

His partner clicked the magazine firmly into her second pistol. 'I'll live, which is more than I can say for our Oriental friend.' She said grimly. 'I owe him.'

Clint threw an 'I told you so' shrug in Coulson's direction.

The handler opened up a map and spread it across the weapons hamper in front of the two agents. 'Red pole instructed that Barton go to this location.' He pointed to an intersection with a collection of buildings.

'That tally's with where the chopper landed.' Clint confirmed.

'He demanded you are to go unarmed and alone.' Coulson continued.

Clint clicked out his bow. 'Yeah like that's gonna happen.'

The passenger door of the van clicked as someone got out. The two agents tensed until Hannah's worried face appeared around the side of the door.

'I told you to stay in the vehicle.' Coulson said pointedly aware that both Barton and the Black Widow were looking his way questioningly.

'You needed equipment and there was no-one else available to escort her back.' He explained before adding in exasperation, 'All our local agents are out looking for bombs. I can't do everything!'

The girl wrapped her arms around herself awkwardly. 'I thought I should apologise to Agent Romanoff...' She began.

The Widow fixed the girl with a cold stare before returning her steely questioning gaze to Coulson.

'Agent Foster believed that you might have changed allegiances.' The handler explained quickly. 'But we've straightened out the confusion.

'_I_ was not confused.' Natasha said icily.

'Play nice...' Barton muttered tight lipped at his partner.

'So...' Natasha said, choosing to ignore the girl. 'We go in, hit him fast and hard?'

'The danger is the bombs will be detonated remotely if you just kill him.' Coulson advised. 'You're going to have to keep him alive.'

'They never let us have any fun.' Barton said, his double edged remark was not lost on Natasha.

Coulson didn't miss the slight indulgent smile she offered back.

'You two seem remarkably cheerful under the circumstances.' The handler said suspiciously.

'We've had worse days.' It was said almost simultaneously followed by a pair of almost sheepish smirks.

'I just... I just don't want to know.' Coulson said wearily shaking his head as he turned away.

* * *

Hannah Foster couldn't help observing the two agents together as they prepared to go into action and she didn't like what she was seeing. It was painfully obvious that Agent Barton really didn't notice any other woman when Natasha Romanoff was present. When he rescued Hannah from the warehouse she had begun to believe she really had caught his attention. Hadn't he put himself a risk to save her? He had been so patient, virtually carrying her down the side of the building on his achingly broad shoulders and when they finally reached the bottom he had been kind, making sure she was unhurt and speaking up for her when they returned to Agent Coulson. She had thanked him of course and in the process lost herself in those storm gray eyes that seemed to hypnotise. Had Agent Coulson not been present she was certain he would have taken her in his arms and kissed her. She could almost taste it. Her heart had been pounding with adrenalin and excitement... How could he not feel it too? But then, just as suddenly, he was talking to Coulson about returning to the warehouse for the Black Widow.

Hannah had been horrified. Much use the female agent had been to help her. 'Agent Romanoff is now working for Red Pole.' She'd blurted out.

A cloud had crossed Barton's features and for the first time Hannah saw a glimpse of the darkness beneath. Foster told herself it was anger towards Agent Romanoff for defecting so easily.

Hawkeye hadn't said any more on the subject. Instead he swung the quiver over his shoulder and began the climb back up the building. Her beautiful Hawkeye was having to put himself in danger again for the Russian agent. Hannah had hoped it was purely for duty to bring back the traitor until Coulson explained that the Widow had merely been humouring Red pole to make him release his hostage. It had been a disappointment because if Agent Romanoff had actually abandoned S.H.I.E.L.D perhaps she would no longer have her spell over Agent Barton.

What she was seeing now proved that the archer was still very much bewitched.

It had helped a little when Hannah believed the admiration was not reciprocated. She had only ever seen the Black Widow as cold and calculating. But for the Russian's part, Foster could now see there was something about Barton that made her relax and drop her guard. She indulged him and even seemed to flirt, albeit not as obviously as Barton, but it was still flirting which to Foster was just maddening. He could make the ice queen smile and he went out of his way to do it too. It was more than just a working partnership they moved in synchronisation. He passed her a throwing knife and she absent minded untwisted the strap on his quiver, all without a word. No other communication seemed necessary except the heated glances thrown back and forth.

Hannah felt her stomach knot as she watched the two agents interact.

'Are you ready?' Clint asked his partner.

Natasha nodded.

'Remember, if he realises you aren't just going to surrender he is likely to set those bombs off.' Coulson said unnecessarily.

'Then we will ensure he doesn't get the opportunity.' Natasha said.

Coulson put a finger to his headpiece; a grave look crossed his face.

'I understand.' He said.

Clicking off the coms Coulson turned to the two assassins. 'Apparently a bomb has just been detonated in small garage in the suburbs...'

Clint looked at his watch. 'Five minutes early.' He snapped. 'Anyone hurt?'

'Apparently not, although there is a report of a slightly traumatized cat.' Coulson continued.

Before Clint could say anything Natasha placed a hand over his mouth. 'We don't need to hear it.' She said primly feeling his mouth turn into an evil grin under her palm.

Hannah bristled at the intimacy while Coulson shook his head wearily but continued regardless. 'We then received a message from Red pole that he was bored with waiting. He said this was a warning. The next bomb will be considerably more public.

Natasha removed her hand as she and Clint exchanged a look.

'Then it's time we put an end to this once and for all.' Barton said resolutely.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N Huge apologies to anyone who had a problem accessing Chapter 19 yesterday. I have no idea why it failed to appear as it showed on my profile as published. Hopefully it is all sorted out now... I blame Red pole personally!**

**Well, once again I want to thank all of you who are being so encouraging. This started out as a little idea that refused to go away and now is becoming a bit of an epic. I would like to say how nice it is to have you all along with me! **

**Thanks again and enjoy.**

**x**

* * *

'I still get to kill him.' Barton said as he stopped the motorcycle in the grounds of the sprawling estate to let his partner dismount. Night was falling and she would use the cover of darkness to hide her presence as she crept into the building as back up.

'Excuse me? I don't think so.' Natasha retorted as she took the archer's bow. Barton needed to be seen to be unarmed even if there were various knives and a pistol secreted about his person. Natasha would be taking his favourite weapon in for him.

'You promised.' He said petulantly, handing over the quiver.

'That was two broken ribs ago.' She sniped. 'You had your chance, now he's mine.'

Clint revved the bike, turning it away from her. The plan was for him to make an entrance and draw attention whilst the spy took a more discreet route.

'I can hear you making that face.' She said coolly.

'I am not making a face.' He snapped back.

'Hey.' Her tone was softer.

Clint turned his head.

'Don't forget we have a date?' She said with a small smile.

'Wouldn't miss it for the world.' He said with a wink before revving the engine and speeding away up the drive.

* * *

The house was fronted by a large glass front door accessed by stone steps. On either side the steps were flanked by a sloping low stone wall. The long gravel drive gave the perfect run towards the house. Accelerating, Clint leant over the handlebars. As the steps came towards him he steered towards the wall. The low brickwork provided a perfect ramp as he twisted the accelerator until the engine was screaming. Flying up the slope the bike reached the summit where it launched and flew threw the air, crashing through the glass doors which exploded on impact. Barton skidded the Ducati sideways across the tiled floor until it came to rest at the foot of the ornate double staircase. Soldiers came running as Red Pole appeared at the top of the stairs. The Triad was wearing his mask. He held up a hand to order his men to stop.

'Very theatrical.' He said drily.

'Since you seem to have developed this obsessive man crush I thought knocking just wouldn't do it for you.' Clint snarked leaning casually on the handlebars as the bike idled.

Red pole descended a few steps slowly, his hands behind his back.

'For someone about to end his life you are remarkably blasé agent Barton?'

Clint shrugged. 'Meh, there's a long line of people wanting that honour, I don't think you're gonna be the one...'

'At least this time you had the courage to face me...' Red interrupted. 'Tut tut, sneaking in like a thief in the night to steal my guests.'

'Did you miss the bit where I turned your little toy soldiers into a domino rally...? Oh that's right; you were too busy running away.'

Fury flashed across the bloodshot eyes. Ripping the mask from his face, Red pole glared. 'You see what you did to me... how you have stolen my life!' He screamed, globules of spittle spraying from cracked and bleeding lips.

Clint blinked slowly as if unimpressed. 'It wasn't me who released the contagion now was it?' His voice dripping condescention.

'You dare to mock me!' Red wailed. 'And now you are going to pay for it.'

* * *

The Black Widow had climbed silently through a rear window and was making her way along a darkened corridor when she heard the crash of the glass shattering. She began to encounter soldiers running to investigate; it was easy to pick them off one at a time leaving them unconscious and broken. One attempted to throw a punch; she grabbed his arm, twisting it back against the joint before slamming his head into the wall. A duo of assailants were dispatched with the aid of her garrotte and patented scissor kick throw and her widow makers were soon employed on a large guard who hadn't even time to react. By the time she reached the hallway at least twenty potential problems had been neutralised.

Clint was having a similar amount of entertainment. As soon as Red pole ordered his henchmen to attack Hawkeye leap agilely onto the motorcycle seat. With a back flip he avoided the closest assailant before punching the man in the face until he fell. Taking the still running motorcycles handle bars, he spun the machine sideways, the wheels screeching as attackers were catapulted aside by the momentum. Letting go of the vehicle it spun across the slippery floor annihilating a charging group of men.

Looking up, Barton saw a guard fly backwards out of a corridor. He was closely followed by Natasha who nodded at her partner before flooring two more by smacking their heads together.

Standing on the staircase, Red pole's screamed instructions became more frantic as each of his men was thwarted in their attempt to catch Barton and now the Black Widow was also in his domain. In desperation he leapt from the staircase directly onto the back of Hawkeye who was fighting beneath. The archer staggered under the weight of the Triad who clawed at his face and head. Flailing backwards, Barton slammed Red pole into the wall, but the crazed enforcer refused to release his grip. The diseased hands found one of the archer's eyes and began to press on the socket. Clint slammed his attacker against the wall again.

With his free eye Clint saw Natasha clumsily loading an arrow into the bow.

_'How hard can it be?' Natasha laughed. 'You do it._'

_Stake outs could be incredibly long sometimes. They were waiting for a drug cartel in western Columbia __to make a drop which the two agents fully intended to destroy. It had been three days and Natasha was bored. _

_'A bow takes skill, timing, and patience.' Clint explained._

_'All of which I possess.' She answered smugly._

_He had to concede the point and nodded in ascent adding. 'It's not as easy as I make it look.'_

_'Let me try.'_

_With a shrug the archer clicked open his bow and handed it to her along with an arrow. He pointed to a tree. 'Hit that.'_

_Natasha's normally dexterous fingers fumbled with the unfamiliar weapon until finally she managed to load the arrow. Lifting the bow she pulled back the string only to have the arrow fall to the floor. _

_Clint couldn't control the short guffaw which he quickly suppressed seeing the glare on her face. _

_Picking up the arrow she flicked the hair from her face and refitted it. Pulling back the string she closed on eye and looked down the shaft. Releasing the string it snapped against her fingers making her jump and drop the bow. The arrow landed woefully short of the tree._

_Getting slowly to his feet, Clint retrieved the bow and selected another arrow. Standing behind the Widow, his body moulded to hers, he placed her left hand, cupped in his own, around the bow shaft. Taking her right hand, he guided her to place the arrow and pull back the string. _

_'Gently.' He said quietly in her ear. Natasha shivered involuntarily._

_'Take aim... just relax.' _

_She exhaled slowly as she let go of the string. The arrow flew just grazing the side of tree. _

_'Better.' Clint said. 'Just needs practice.'_

_After far too few further demonstrations, he moved away from her. She didn't like to admit how she mourned the loss of contact. _

_She had practiced many times since, irritated that there was a skill she could not master. Sometimes she could hit the target... just... but for the majority of time the arrow would fly wildly wide. _

_Interestingly it was one of the few things Barton never teased her about. He would lend her his bow, his prized possession, he would coach her, advise her, and even guide her as he had that first day and yet she still failed to improve. _

_She sometimes wondered if, subconsciously, it was that she simply enjoyed sharing his passion for teaching her far too much._

How many times, Barton thought, had he attempted to teach Natasha archery, and despite her usual excellence with co-ordination she had never managed to master it, in fact she was unfailingly bad.

Now the arrow tip was pointed directly at him and she was taking aim.

He took a deep breath and closed his other eye.


	21. Chapter 21

Struggling against Red pole, Clint Barton was unable to gain purchase to release the Triad's grip. Overcome with hatred, the enforcer seemed determined to cause some damage to the archer.

Natasha hesitated.

'Take the shot!' Hawkeye said as the pain began to grow.

He could sense her reluctance. 'Take it!' He demanded as the pressure on his eye socket became unbearable.

'Take the damned shot!'

He heard the unmistakeable ting of the bow's string and the normally comforting whoosh of the arrow. It was less so when the sharp end was coming your way. There was a thud and Barton waited for pain. Instead the grip around his head suddenly decreased to be replaced with a high pitched screaming directly in his ear.

Panting slightly and wiping the watering from his damaged eye, Clint stepped quickly away from Red pole. The Triad was pinned to the wall by an arrow directly through his hand.

'Difficult... I'm impressed.' He said to a slightly pale Natasha. She soon recovered herself.

'I was aiming for _your_ head.' She said seriously.

* * *

A new wave of soldiers charged into the hallway.

Natasha threw the bow to her partner, sending it flying across the room. Using a soldiers chest as a springboard, Barton jumped to catch the weapon, spinning as he landed and flattening three converging attackers with the bow. In the meantime Natasha flipped over the head of the first attacker catching him around the throat with her garrotte. Momentum pulled him over as she took a second to disarm the two behind.

The ground was littered with bodies and Red pole still stood screaming and clutching the wrist of his speared hand.

'Well, well, well...' Clint said as the two agents slowly approached the Triad. 'Do you think we should release him?' He asked the Widow.

'It's really going to hurt taking that arrow out.' Natasha said.

Red pole struggled against the restraint but the arrow had been fired from close range and embedded itself in the wall.

'Agonising I would have thought...' Clint agreed as he wiped his eye again. 'Can't say I'm feeling too sympathetic.'

'I'll never tell you where the bombs are hidden and you'll never find them.' Red pole taunted.

'What are a couple more explosions today?' Natasha said allowing her tone to sound a little bored. 'What is it Barton, four or five buildings?'

Clint pretended to think. 'Five.' He agreed.

'You're prepared to sacrifice all those children? And you call me a monster...' Red spat.

Clint stepped to one side and clicked his communicator. 'School.' He muttered discreetly.

Natasha shrugged as she strolled back and forth in front of her captive. 'Of course you wouldn't take a difficult target. Government buildings are too well guarded.' When there was no reaction she continued. 'You would choose somewhere vulnerable; easy... any coward can plant a weapon in a shopping mall.' She scoffed.

There was the barest flicker of the eyeball. Natasha glanced at Barton to see if he had caught the tell. Her partner was already whispering into his communicator.

'All this to take revenge on one man...' She said, making sure Red's attention was on her not Barton.

'Of course you are arrogant enough to believe the children would do the trick, if it came to it.' Natasha could see by the enforcer's expression she was right. 'You thought that would make Barton come... if only to kill you. That's what you really want isn't it?'

'I want to kill him.' Red growled through the pain.

'No...' Natasha waved a finger at him. 'You want Barton to kill you. That is what this has all been about. You are too afraid to end your own suffering... so you want Barton to do it for you.'

'What?' Clint asked.

'He's in pain. Every day must be a constant struggle. His mind is warped, twisted. He has chosen you as his method of suicide.' She explained. 'His executioner.'

Barton snorted in disbelief. 'All of this because he wants to off himself?'

Natasha shrugged.

'No... No... No...' Pole yelled. 'If you let me live I am going to kill you, I am going to kill you both slowly, you and the Russian slut.'

Barton snatched an arrow and raised the bow pointing directly at the Triad. Reaching across Natasha gently pressed a finger on the tip of the arrow making Hawkeye lower the weapon.

'I don't think so.' Natasha said calmly facing the Triad. 'All you really want is for the pain and madness to end. Which is why we are going to keep you very much alive.'

* * *

'So what do we do now?' Clint asked Natasha as they waited for S.H.I.E.L.D's team of cleaners to arrive and secure the scene. They sat on the stairs side by side.

'I expect Fury will find a nice dark secure cell with just enough medical help to keep our friend alive until he is no longer useful.' She said in a business like manner.

Clint smirked. 'You know exactly what I'm talking about.'

She turned her head, an eyebrow raised in question.

They locked gazes until Natasha could no longer contain her amusement. 'The first thing I am going to do is take a long hot bath to ease these ribs.' She said.

Barton looked down at his hands trying to hide his disappointment and failing.

Resting her chin on his shoulder, Natasha breathed in his ear. 'Of course I will need someone to help me wash my back...'

* * *

'Did you get them all?' Barton asked Coulson as the handler.

'You sure he gave them all up?' Clint shrugged. 'Natasha thinks he did and that's good enough for me... We all done here?'

Coulson didn't miss the glance Barton threw in the Black Widow's direction. She was assisting the recovery team to load Red pole into the armoured truck. The Triad had eventually been released from his restraint and, still with the arrow shaft through his hand to prevent blood loss; he would soon be on his way to States under strict guard.

'You have somewhere you need to be?' Coulson asked.

'Actually I do.' Barton replied.

'Would that have anything to do with Natasha?' The handler asked.

Barton blinked, unsure what to say. Phil Coulson rarely asked a question that he didn't already know the answer to.

'Whatever it is, it will have to wait. I need you to escort Foster back to S.H.I.E.L.D.'

'You have got to be kidding me!' Barton exclaimed.

'Look. I need to stay here to co-ordinate the clean up. Have you _seen_ the mess you made?' Coulson asked, gesticulating wildly with his hand. 'The Hungarian authorities are demanding explanations, not to mention the President and the U.N. As senior agent at the scene it falls to me to smooth things over and that is going to take some time. You can take Foster back with you on the military transport and deliver her for debrief, after that I don't want to know.'

Barton stole another long glance at Natasha. Feeling eyes on her the Black Widow looked up, a wicked glint in her eye.

'Are you absolutely sure no-one else can do it?' He cajoled. Leaning forward conspiratorially he added. 'You know Foster has a bit of a crush, it's silly really, but me and her together might not be a good idea...'

'Not a problem.' Coulson said briskly. 'Agent Romanoff will be there to chaperone.'

A small knot of dread formed in Clint's stomach as he imagined Natasha's reaction when she found out the plan had changed and how many ways she might make Foster and possibly him suffer. 'It's a nine hour flight' He groaned.

Coulson couldn't help the smirk. Slapping Clint on the shoulder he added. 'I suspect it will seem longer.'


	22. Chapter 22

The atmosphere in the sedan was chilly to say the least as the three S.H.I.E.L.D agents made their way to the private airfield. Natasha drove, her eyes kept directly ahead, the black widow oozed barely concealed malevolence. Clint sat slumped in the passenger seat staring out of the side window, his chin resting on his hand, his knee bent to allow his heel to rest on the edge of the seat.

In the back Hannah remained poker straight directly in the middle of the seat, her hands folded neatly in her lap. For once the blonde agent wasn't talking; instead she kept her eyes downcast. She didn't want to be in the company of Agents Romanoff and Barton any more than they wanted to be with her and it had been made very obvious to her that neither agent was particularly enamoured with their escort detail. Not only that, but was she now under no illusions as to how agent Barton felt, or rather didn't feel about her. The Black Widow held his heart. As if such rejection was not bad enough, she was returning to S.H.I.E.L.D in disgrace. More than that, she would definitely be returning to her office in records, her hopes to become a field agent in tatters. It was going to be a horrible flight. Her mother had always told her that people who eavesdrop never hear any good. Hannah Foster wished she had listened.

* * *

_'You have got to be kidding me?' Natasha snapped._

_'That's what I said.' Clint responded._

_'Can't someone else do it?'_

_'I also said that.' He rubbed a hand through his hair wearily._

_'глиняный дерьма!' She spat. 'Она не что иное, как пустая трата пространства, это было бы лучше просто оставить ее жарить.'_

_'That... I did not say.'_

_A fist suddenly caught Barton's shoulder. 'Ow!' he said indignantly._

_'Sorry.' Natasha snarked making it obvious she wasn't the slightest bit apologetic. 'You have to admit, the girl has been nothing but trouble.'_

_'The job was more complicated than we first thought...' Barton began._

_'I cannot believe you are defending her!' Natasha faced her partner, hands on her hips._

_'I'm not defending her, but you have to concede that getting Red pole to take you prisoner was quite clever?'_

_'I... was... electrocuted...' The Widow said each word slowly, her teeth gritted._

_Barton gave an apologetic shrug._

_'And now they expect me to babysit the жалкая мышь!'_

_'I'll be there too.' Clint pointed out._

_'Wonderful! I get to spend nine hours watching her make cow faces at you... it will be a thrilling ride.'_

_'Would you rather make cow faces at me?' Barton said suppressing a smirk. It earned him an icy glare._

_'I do not make cow faces.' She growled._

_Clint took the Widow's hands in his own, she gave them up reluctantly. 'It's only another twenty four hours and then we can take some leave. I promise I will spend the entire flight at the opposite end of the aircraft... if it helps I'll even fly it?' He cajoled._

_'Don't you dare think you're going to have all the fun and leave me to deal with Foster on my own!'_

_Clint rolled his eyes. 'Then come watch me fly and let the pilots entertain her, perhaps she'll go all gaga over one of them!'_

_Natasha's face refused to soften so he continued. 'What do you want me to do? I've done nothing to encourage her; it's all in her head. You know perfectly well I'm not interested in her and never have been. But...'_

_Natasha's eyes narrowed. 'But what?'_

_'If you hadn't been jealous, we'd have never have...' The unspoken words hung between them._

_Her lips pressed tightly together at the reminder of her admission._

_Clint decided it might be wise to move on. 'When we get back to H.Q. Fury will read the reports, and I have no doubt yours will be just _glowing_, and I would imagine dear little Hannah will be back in the bowels of the building in no time and everything will go on as normal.'_

_'Will we be normal?' Natasha asked. Her nose wrinkling in concern._

_'As close to normal as it's possible for people like us to get.' He said, wrapping her arms around his neck, before his own circled her waist and pulled her towards him._

_'Will you teach me to fly?' She asked between small kisses._

_Clint appeared to consider for a moment. 'Do you promise to miss if you ever need to aim an aircraft at my head?'_

_Natasha scrunched her face. 'Not sure I can.'_

_'Then I am definitely not teaching you to fly.' He said placing a light kiss on the tip of her nose._

_The two agents thought they were alone. Clint had taken Natasha away from the main scene to break the news of their next assignment. The mansion's grounds were large and he had chosen an avenue of trees away from prying eyes in case she lost her temper._

_Agent Hannah Foster had seen the two agents walking away and, checking no-one was watching her, had concealed herself in the darkness to spy. She did not like what she observed and overheard._

* * *

If their passenger's silence was noticed by the two senior agents, they didn't acknowledge it and she was too wrapped up in her own misery to care. As the clock registered six am a small pulse sent a glow through Hannah, for a second she was incandescent and then the wave passed.

From where it rested in her lap, one hand absently lifted the sleeve on the opposite wrist. It had remained hidden, the very nature of the mind control technology meaning the wearer could be made to forget it existed as soon as the master wished it. When Natasha had been released from her restraints she had simply assumed that Foster had been too. However, the bracelet attached by Red pole was still very much in place. Foster ran her fingers over the metal surface, playing idly with the clasp for a few seconds before replacing the sleeve over the wristlet. When she looked up a small vacant smile played on her lips.


	23. Chapter 23

Barton began to unpack the luggage from the trunk of the black sedan. There wasn't much, a small kitbag each for himself and Natasha and a suitcase for Foster. In the meantime his partner had walked into the main terminal building to announce their arrival.

Hannah got out of the back seat as though in a trance. Walking around to the trunk she watched as Barton reached inside.

'Here, hold this.' he said handing her his bow without looking up. As he leant forwards to grab his quiver, Hannah weighed the weapon in her hand for a second. Raising the bow high in the air she brought it slamming down upon Clint's head with a speed and strength she had never possessed before. Completely unprepared, Barton didn't even see the attack. As the weapon connected he was knocked out cold, slumping forwards into the trunk space. Struggling slightly, Hannah managed to lift the archer's legs and force them into the vehicle before slamming the lid shut.

Panting, the girl glanced around. Agent Romanoff was just leaving the terminal building. Quickly Hannah ran around to the driver's seat. Fortunately for her Natasha had left the keys in the ignition. In normal circumstances Hannah would never have considered driving. She had only ever been behind the wheel on two occasions and each had frightened her so badly she had vowed never to try it again. Under the influence of Red pole's control bracelet however, she turned the ignition and was soon speeding off across the tarmac, albeit swerving alarmingly.

Natasha heard the screech of tyres and looked up. She registered the abandoned pile of luggage and the sedan's rapid departure. Something was very wrong.

'Barton... Barton?' She said over her com's link. When there was no response her worse fears began to surface. Running back to the building she found a jeep with the keys inside. Jumping in, she was soon racing away in the direction of the runaway.

The road began to wind as the sedan made its way through the Danube Bend and towards the Transdanubian Mountains. Uncertain as a driver, Hannah's mind was in the grip of Red pole but her skills were lacking. As the car negotiated each bend her foot refused to ease from the accelerator, but her reponses were slow and uncoordinated. The rear end began to slide as the car climbed higher.

A skilled driver at speed, Natasha could soon see the sedan on the pass above her. The road was becoming more treacherous as Foster skidded away from the modern main thoroughfare and onto the lesser used outer tracks whose traffic was normally only logging trucks.

In her 4x4 the Russian had a greater chance to stay on the road, but Foster continued to plough onwards regardless, the road now changing from tarmac to gravel as the sedans wheels spun and slid.

A hairpin bend in the road was the final test for the novice driver and she was unable to handle it. The big car couldn't possibly turn in the space allowed and headed towards the edge. Hannah slammed her foot on the brake in a final act of self preservation. The gravel screeched as the brakes locked and the car shuddered to a halt... with the front half of the vehicle hanging precariously over the edge of the mountain.

In her zombie like state, Hannah did not even appear to flinch. She reached up and opened the sun roof. Standing slowly on the seat she eased herself through the small opening and began to inch her way towards the back of the car across the roof. With the movement the vehicle creaked ominously. Foster stopped, waited for it to stabilize, and then continued to edge towards the rear. As Natasha arrived and stopped the jeep, Hannah was sitting on the back of the car staring directly ahead as she twirled the keys around her finger.

'Foster... What are you doing?' The Widow approached cautiously. There was something ethereal about the girl as she stared straight into space, unblinking.

'Where is agent Barton?' Natasha tried again.

The girl gave a sinister giggle and patted the trunk lid next to her. The car teetered before regaining balance.

'Why don't I get a rope and we can pull you back onto the road.' Natasha said softly.

Hannah shook her head. It was unnerving how she wouldn't look at the Widow, she didn't even seem human.

As Natasha stepped forward the girl suddenly shouted, 'No! Or I will get off.'

So precariously balanced was the vehicle it was obvious that the girl's weight, such as it was, was the only thing keeping the car balanced and if Barton was in fact in the trunk...

'Ok, ok...' She placated. 'Foster... why don't you tell me what's going on?'

Hannah tilted her head to one side as if not understanding the question. 'I have to make Barton pay.' The voice was distant.

'But you like Agent Barton... you like Clint... what do you want him to pay for?'

'The pain... all the pain... so much...' Hannah replied dreamily.

'Agent Foster... Hannah...' Natasha began but was interrupted.

'Hannah is gone... goodbye Hannah... good riddance to the _bitch_!' The girl spat the last word. Pulling up her sleeve Hannah waved the bracelet. 'Same technology used to control my beautiful army... until Barton destroyed them... I told him he should have killed me.' Hannah finally turned to face her. Her eyes were lifeless, her face twisted and cold. The voice was hard, eerie... and unmistakably Red pole.

Clicking her communicator the Widow tried to contact Coulson but the mountain passes limited her signal. She was on her own.

'Hannah, if you are in there, can you hear me?' She inched forward.

The girl simply stared blankly.

'You have to fight it Hannah...' Decreasing the distance.

A vicious smile twisted on the girls lips. 'You cannot save him.' She sniggered. 'No-one can save him... I win.'

'Just stay where you are.' If she could get to the car, she could use her own weight to hold it down until she could unlock the trunk. The girl had the keys. Subdue the girl, keep her weight on the lid and tie a rope to the sedan. A dozen scenarios flew through the Black Widow's mind.

'Too late.' The girl chirped before stepping off the car. The sedan see sawed on the edge of the cliff, a sheer drop below. In slow motion Natasha dived for the car as it slid over the edge. In desperation she grabbed for Hannah, snatching the keys. The buttons depressed under her fingers as the girl staggered backwards. Losing her footing, so close to the edge, Hannah wobbled for a moment before disappearing over the side. The Black Widow caught her arm as the girl fell. The only thing between Hannah Foster and a sheer two hundred foot drop was a woman who despised her and the bracelet stopping her slender wrist sliding out of her saviour's two clasped hands. From below there was a sickening sound of metal crashing through trees until finally a fireball exploded as the sedan hit the ground. Natasha tried to bury the sickening feeling of utter despair and concentrate on the agent hanging below her.

'I'll pull you up, but you have to help.' Natasha gasped. Hannah had become a dead weight as the girl hung lifeless by her arm. She wasn't even attempting to hold on.

'Foster!' Natasha shouted in frustration, desperate to reach the girl.

Hannah turned her face upwards, her eyes completely void of who she was. There was a click from the wristlet. Suddenly Hannah was back. She looked around in utter panic, her eyes filling with tears of terror and realisation of her plight as she desperately flailed to hang on to Natasha. It was too late. Her wrist now released by the unlocked bracelet slipped through the Widow's hands. Hannah screamed as she began to fall.


	24. Chapter 24

Natasha leant over the edge of the precipice. An involuntary gasp escaped her lips as Hannah Foster disappeared beneath the canopy of trees.

The sedan still burned further down the mountain side, she was too far up to feel the heat but the flames sent an eerie glow over the scene. In the aftermath there was a deathly silence.

'No.' She whispered under her breath. 'Please, please, no...' Her fingers clenched and unclenched as she desperately scanned the debris for a sign of him, any sign.

'Barton!' She screamed at the top of her lungs like a wounded animal. All the pain and fear released in one primal howl of loss. He couldn't be dead. It couldn't be possible. He was indestructible he had to be indestructible, she needed him to be... She needed him. He was her one constant, her family, her life and they had only just... A small sob escaped her lips. Why hadn't she realised years ago how she felt about him. Tears began to course down her cheeks and she let them fall unchecked.

'Natasha!' She thought for a moment her ears had deceived her. 'Natasha!' There it was again.

Wiping her eyes a strangled laugh left her throat. It was him.

'Clint?' She peered further over, trying to see where he was.

'Rope!' He yelled. He sounded as if he struggling.

'Rope... rope...' She repeated, trying to keep the relief from actually making her heart leap out of her chest. Jumping to her feet she ran back to the jeep and took the rope from the back. She threw it over the edge and tied the other end to the vehicle.

* * *

Under the canopy, Hawkeye was indeed having a few problems. It was fortunate the boot catch had been unlocked before the sedan went over the edge of the cliff. It enabled him leap from the vehicle and catch hold of a tree branch before the explosion. He had just managed to swing upwards and grip the main trunk with his legs when he heard Foster's scream. Hanging upside down he was able to catch her by her arm as the girl passed. The force had dislocated her shoulder and subsequently the pain had caused her to pass out, but at least she was alive. The problem Clint currently faced was hanging on to an unconscious body whilst his own grip on the tree trunk was precarious to say the least, it groaned disturbingly under the additional weight.

The rope appeared through the foliage. Shifting Foster so that he could hold her around the waist with one arm, he couldn't quite reach. There was nowhere to put the girl where he could be certain she wouldn't fall. Shifting his legs he swung out towards the rope, but it was just too far.

'Further to your right!' He shouted.

The life line disappeared upwards as the trunk groaned and the roots began to pull out of the ground.

'Come on Tash.' He muttered as he and Hannah jerked downwards suddenly. It was a relief the girl wasn't awake to see this, below them was a sickening drop onto rocks and the still burning car debris.

Once again the rope appeared, this time closer. He was able to swing far enough to reach it with his fingertips. It was soon tied around the stricken girl. Once her weight was supported, he could grasp the rope himself. The roots finally gave way as he released his grip, the trunk crashing down and shattering on the rocks below.

Exhaling in relief he tugged on the rope. 'Ok, bring us up.' He shouted.

Natasha started the jeep and began to reverse slowly away from the cliff edge until she finally saw Clint's hand appeared at the top. She ran to the edge dragging the unconscious girl to safety while her partner scrambled onto solid ground.

Natasha crouched over Foster's, checking the blonde agent's jugular for a pulse.

'Is she ok?' Clint asked, his hands on his knees.

'She will be.' Natasha said, before looking at him. The tear stains were still evident.

'How about you?' He asked seriously.

Standing up Natasha crossed quickly to where he stood and punched him hard in the shoulder.

'What was that for?' He exclaimed angrily squaring up to her.

The Black Widow stood with her hands on her hips tapping her foot impatiently. Her still damp face full of fury. 'Don't you ever do that to me again засранцем!'

Before he could say anything she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him desperately. Barton stepped back under the initial onslaught but soon responded in kind, his own arms circling her waist and lifting her from the ground, their mouths locked together until they eventually had to breathe.

'We should really deal with that shoulder before she wakes up.' Natasha said as they broke apart.

Barton nodded before drawing her in for one more kiss before he would release her.

* * *

Between them the two agents reset Foster's shoulder. The girl was now conscious but slumped in the back of the jeep. Natasha watched her closely from her own passenger seat.

'You don't remember anything?' The Widow asked.

Hannah Foster had said nothing. Since she had regained consciousness she hadn't uttered a word, simply sat with her arms wrapped around herself rocking slightly. Her eyes were wild darting back and forth, she shook and rocked but she refused to speak.

'We have to get her to a hospital.' Natasha said glancing at her partner.

Barton's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. His jaw set in grim determination as the jeep skidded around corners negotiating the mountain road descent at speed.

'Clint?' She said softly as she gripped the roll bar during another manoeuver.

'What?'

'Don't do it.'

He glanced her way fire burning behind steel gray eyes. 'Don't do what?'

'You'll be letting him manipulate you.' She said as they flew around another corner.

'And what am I supposed to do?' He raged. 'Wait for him to plant something on you, on Coulson? Perhaps he already has? What other little surprises has he left? If he can do that from inside S.H.I.E.L.D custody then there is no telling what else he can do... and now he's really pissed me off.'

'Coulson won't like it... Fury really won't like it.' She reasoned.

'I can deal with Fury.' Clint snapped.

'You'll be giving him exactly what he wants.' She added. 'If you kill him then Red pole wins.'

The back end of the jeep skidded around as the vehicle shuddered to a halt. Hawkeye turned to face his partner holding her stare. There was murder in his eyes.

'Then today really is going to be his lucky day.'


	25. Chapter 25

The detachment of S.H.I.E.L.D agents surveyed their surroundings, watching for threats, as Clint Barton knew they would. From his nest his keen eyesight picked out every detail. Red pole was helped down from the prisoner transport. The enforcer was in manacles, his mask off, remaining hair wild around his distorted face. S.H.I.E.L.D's agents milled around their prisoner as the Triad was escorted towards the military airfield in an attempt to deny the archer a clear shot.

Hawkeye did not know if Natasha had spoken to Coulson. She would never betray him, of that he was certain but, she believed his conscience would suffer if he executed Red pole for his own satisfaction rather than a sanctioned hit. It was tantamount to cold blooded murder in her eyes. The Black Widow had been in that position, she called it the red in her ledger, and if she could protect him from making the same mistake, he knew she would try.

At the moment Barton couldn't see any distinction. He was solely focused on the fact that the enforcer was going to die and he was the one who was going to do it. He raised the rifle to shoulder height, the sights directly focused on his target. The crosshairs sighted on the Triad's temple as he walked towards the terminal building. There was no way he could miss. He felt his finger start to squeeze the trigger.

The Black Widow stepped into shot. Fortunately Barton's reflexes were razor sharp and he aborted. She was scanning the rooftops and Clint knew what she was looking for. There was no way anyone could spot the master assassin from the ground, but looking through the sight, it seemed as though the Russian Agent was staring straight at him.

* * *

_'Don't do it Barton.' Natasha had said again. It was rare that Clint didn't heed her advice. The Black Widow was one of the few who could reason with him on those occasions when self doubt or his temper got the better of him. This time her words fell on deaf ears._

_They had arrived at the hospital. Clint screeched the jeep to a halt as the Widow helped Foster out of the vehicle. Slumped between them, the girl was taken straight to the emergency room. _

_In fluent Hungarian, Natasha was able to explain away the girl's injuries as a consequence of the recent troubles. Foster would spend a few days in the Budapest facility, under the watchful eye of a field S.H.I.E.L.D agent at all times, before eventually taking a medical transport home. _

_Hawkeye could feel the frustration rising as he watched the shadow of a human that used to be Agent Hannah Foster. He bunched his fists in an effort to control his rage. _

_The first on site agent had arrived to take his watch and the two assassins were relieved of duty._

_They drove towards the airfield in an uncomfortable silence. At the main entrance Clint stopped the vehicle. As Natasha got out, he threw his kit and weapons into the back of the jeep. Natasha watched emotionlessly. _

_He took a step forward, trying to find the words to make her understand. Red pole had brought this fight to him. The enforcer had tried to infect him with chemical weapons and when that failed had decided to threaten him and everything he loved. Hadn't he hurt Natasha? Foster had done nothing more than accidentally been in the way. That was her crime. For that she was currently sitting in a hospital bed so traumatized that she didn't even really know who she was. He had to pay... Red pole had to pay... She had to understand that. Would she do any less?_

_But the words wouldn't come. _

_Natasha's blue eyes scanned his face. They were filled with mixture of pleading and disappointment. Her disapproval only made him angrier. _

_If only he could explain._

_With a final slow shake of her head, Natasha lifted her kit bag onto her shoulder, turned, and strode away._

* * *

Get out of here Tash!' Clint yelled for the second time since she had arrived unannounced at his newly acquired hotel room. He threw the nearly full vodka bottle in her direction. She caught it nimbly, barely spilling a drop before calmly taking a swig and standing it on the nearby dresser.

Her partner overturned a chair and swept the top of an occasional table clear before also up-ending it. Natasha Romanoff folded her arms and waited patiently. As the small portable television was smashed into the wall to her right, she simply leant to the side a little to avoid the shrapnel.

In the hotel corridor, Yuri, the bellboy leant closer to the door to listen just as Clint launched a lamp across the room which crashed into the other side. The boy jumped back.

'I mean it Romanoff. Get the hell away from me!'

It was bad enough, Yuri thought, that war seemed to have broken out in the city, without this lunatic coming to their doorstep. The bell boy hopped from foot to foot in uncertainty, not daring to knock on the door and face the devil within. What about the red haired woman? She had simply pushed him aside as he'd tried to stop her entering the room where the madman was breaking everything. That was when the yelling started. What to do, what to do... finally with his face full of concern at the imagined carnage within, the boy ran to find the hotel manager.

'I am toxic... anyone who comes near me is in danger... I should have stayed well away. She was a sweet kid; she didn't deserve to get mixed up in this. You were right... weakness...' Clint rubbed his hands over his face.

'There was nothing you could have done differently.' Natasha said softly. 'You made the right call today.'

'Is that what you know?' He spat back. 'It was all about me... she was a target because of me.'

'She was not a target because of you, you were the target.'

'I'm always going to be a damned target!' He stormed.

Crossing the room Natasha placed her hands firmly on his biceps. When he finally looked at her she was shocked to see the haunted shadow behind his eyes. 'Listen to me. You cannot do this to yourself.'

'What?'

'Red pole is a hundred shades of crazy.' She said gently. 'Also not your fault.'

'But you were wrong; I should have put a bullet through him.' Clint snorted. 'Then perhaps I wouldn't feel so damn... helpless.'

'It would have been quick for him, an easy end... For you it would have taken a lot longer to redeem.'

'She probably won't ever recover you know.' He said grimly.

'You can't punish yourself, you saved her life.'

'Who is supposed to punish me if not myself? It's still one more innocent life gone because of me. It would probably have been better if she'd died.' He tried to push her away but she held fast.

'She knew the risks.' Natasha kept her tone calm, forcing her partner to look at her. 'It was not your fault.'

Clint searched her face for answers. She slid her hands down his arms until their fingers entwined. Pulling him towards her, she placed his arms around her waist; her own she wound around his neck her lips finding his hungrily.

'Natasha...' He said quietly as they broke contact. She responded with another kiss, more insistent. Parting his lips her tongue explored his, her fingers playing with the nape of his neck, pulling him closer until she felt him relaxing against her body.

'Affection is a weakness, you taught me that.' He whispered as her lips left his to place butterfly kisses along his jaw.

She stopped and arched an eyebrow. 'Who said anything about being affectionate?'

* * *

As the long suffering manager wearily climbed the last flight stairs in the wake of his over excited bell boy he thought for the fiftieth time that day that Budapest was going to hell. Explosions, gunshots, power outage, and now one of his guests had apparently gone insane. He would have called the police had they not all been tied up dealing with the threats to the city. As it was he wasn't even sure what he was supposed to do when he got there, he just knew at the moment he felt very, very tired.

There was indeed a lot of noise coming from the room but he quickly deduced that no-one was in any immediate danger. If he was any judge the screams and groans were more of pleasure than real pain, plus the occasional crash and associated noises indicated an interruption at this point would be less than discreet and extremely unwelcome.

Yuri the bell boy pointed unnecessarily to the hotel door, a worried look on his face. The manager shook his head and smiled. 'When you are older, if that is the way you end all your fights with a woman you will be a very lucky man.' He said kindly, ruffling the boy's hair before ushering him back down the stairs.


	26. Epilogue

**A/N Ah well, you wonderful people, all good things must eventually come to an end. I want to thank everyone who has enjoyed this ride with me, it's been a blast! Thank you for all the kind words of encouragement, favourites, reviews, follows, and general all around good egginess on your part, it was most appreciated. Twenty six days ago when I started this little story I had no idea it would become such an epic, but I have so loved writing it. For now my muse is sated but... Red pole is a tricky customer and could well slip the net... Hannah is basically completely barking hatstand and I suspect she may have some issues with our heros... and of course there is a good chance other things may pop into my head. I so love writing for these two and I am so glad you have found my interpretation and characterisation did them justice. **

**So, I am taking a little Clintasha break for now, but I wanted to leave you feeling warm and fuzzy so here is the epilogue.**

**Thanks again, until the next time. Elf xx**

* * *

'Vladivostok?' Natasha asked.

Clint shook his head. He lay on the hotel bed, his back propped against the pillows, taking another swig from the bottle of vodka he passed it to his partner. Natasha was lying on her stomach inspecting Hawkeyes various scars. They were both naked save for a discreet tangle of sheets.

She took a drink and passed the bottle back. Frowning she traced the neat scar on his leg. 'Are you sure it wasn't Vladivostok?' She asked, looking up at him questioningly.

'It's my leg and yes I'm sure.' He retorted.

'You never remember where you got these things anyway.' She snorted.

'I remember that one.' He said certainly, passing back the bottle. 'You should recognise it?' Returning her attention to the scar she waved her feet in the air thoughtfully.

'Minsk.' Clint said eventually. 'That's your handiwork. Very neat stitching.'

'Really? I thought it was higher?' With a mischievous smirk her hand began to creep up the inside of his leg under the sheet.

Clint cocked an eyebrow. 'You're playing with fire woman...' he warned.

'Woman is it now?'

'Yes...' He grabbed the wandering hand and rolled her over until he was lying on top of her.

She nipped playfully at his bottom lip with her teeth.

'I'm going to pay for that 'woman' at some point aren't I?' He said wearily.

'Only if you are very, very lucky.' She agreed changing positions so that she was uppermost and could rest her chin on her hands which in turn lay on his chest.

After a few minutes silence he gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. 'You ok?'

'Of course.' She said, looking up at him.

'Really?' He asked, eyebrows raised. This was always going to be a tricky moment. The defining point where their relationship would change forever, they would never be the same. Over the years they had built something from nothing, a connection that involved complete trust and Barton couldn't help but wonder if stepping over the line would change the way Natasha viewed him and he feared it might not be for the better.

* * *

_Agent Natasha Romanoff strode back into the safe house, her high heeled sling backs swinging from her hand. It was four in the morning but she had no need to attempt to be quiet, she knew Clint would be up and waiting for her._

_'You ok?' He'd asked as she closed the door behind her. Barton was sitting in the dark by the window, watching, in case she had been followed._

_'Of course.' She'd replied, smiling. 'The __дебил __couldn't tell me fast enough!'_

_She dropped the shoes. 'What is it with men? The moment their член thinks it's going to get lucky it's like the brain stops working all together.'_

_'Hey!' Clint had said indignantly._

_'Present company accepted.' She'd said charmingly before sniffing and wrinkling her nose in disgust. 'I need to take a shower, get the smell of that __свинья off me.' _

_She had been in the shower for nearly an hour before she finally emerged dressed in a robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. _

_Barton had decamped to the sofa now she was back; he glanced up from the rifle he was cleaning. 'Better?'_

_'Much.' She said flopping down next to him_. _Tucking her knees up under her, Natasha lay down with her head on Barton's knee. Putting down the rifle he rubbed her wet hair with the towel. The bathrobe fell away from her neck and he could see where the skin had been scrubbed red and sore._

_He edged the material back revealing more angry red skin; she winced as the cloth rubbed._

_'Tash?' He began._

_Sitting up sharply, she pulled the robe tightly around her._

_'What the...?' He started. _

_Facing him she placed a finger on his lips. 'Don't!' She warned._

_'At least let me put something on it?' he said, muffled._

_She considered for a moment before finally nodding. _

_As he rubbed the moisturising cream into the reddened skin of her back and neck, it occurred to Barton he wouldn't have known what to say anyway._

* * *

'I'm ok,' Natasha insisted. 'although I think I could probably use a shower.' She added, frowning.

Something in Clint's stomach sunk as Natasha got to her feet and stretched. This was not a good sign and he didn't actually know what he was going to do about it.

It was a few seconds before he realised she was holding out her hand.

'Are you joining me or not?' She asked.

He was off the bed instantly and took her hand.

'So what are you going to remember most about this mission?' She was asking a very distracted Barton as she led him to the bathroom.

'What?'

'I mean you haven't gotten any injuries so what will you remember, fighting iron soldiers, exploding rooftops...?'

Barton grinned. 'I suspect I will always remember Budapest very differently.'


End file.
